A Second Beginning
by Sannikex
Summary: For Ginny Weasley, being thirty-two years old and divorced while struggling to raise a teenage son on her own, romance just isn't on the map. But when help comes from the most unexpected source she has to re-examine her priorities. Draco Malfoy has it all, the house, the job and the perfect son, but when he meets Ginny Weasley again he realizes all of what he never had. D/G.
1. Chapter 1

A Second Beginning

By

Sannikex

"_For last year's words belong to last year's language_

_And next year's words await another voice._

_And to make an end is to make a beginning_."

– T.S. Eliot

Ginny Weasley was woken up by what sounded like monkeys on crack crashing through her windows and ransacking her house. She sighed and rolled over. Teenagers were supposed to sleep in, not wake up at…she glanced at her alarm clock - 8:30 on a Saturday morning. The music – if you could call it that – was normal. Or so the many books she'd read on the topic of raising a teenage son on your own told her.

Knowing that short of cutting the power in the house there wasn't anything she could do to make him turn it down. Bribes, threats and cajoling would be to little avail, so she got up and put on her ratty bathrobe over her pajamas. Heading down the stairs in the tiny house she now shared with her son she compared it to the house she had lived in with Harry. It was positively minuscule but it was all her salary from the Ministry and the money she got from Harry (that she accepted only so her son could avoid the cross to bear that was second hand robes) could afford.

Still, it was all theirs and she liked it. She'd loved the house she and Harry had shared, the spacious, bright rooms, the roses that climbed the outside wall, the big garden. It was perfect for the large family she had wanted to raise. She had wanted more children and maybe a dog or two to run in and out of all those rooms. But it wasn't to be. Harry was and always would be, everybody's. He couldn't be just Harry Potter the husband of Ginny or dad of James. He was the Savior and he'd never stop being who people looked to in times of trouble.

He'd never been able to say no to people who depended on him for help and no matter how much she loved that about him it left him with no time for his family. The first two years after James had been born he had stayed at home more, declined requests. But slowly he had slipped back into it. Who was his wife to claim his attention when a despairing mother of a murdered child asked for his help to find the killer?

It wasn't as if she had thought she was more important, but it was when she realized she and James would never be Harry's first thought that she had gotten fed up. She deserved to be her husband's first thought. Her son deserved a dad who didn't just drop in a few times a month to ruffle his hair and then sink into thought, still going over work in his head.

So she'd left him to be the Savior of all and could swear he had looked relieved when she told him. He still saw James once a month but the few visits seemed to upset her son more than they settled him down. Maybe they only served to remind him of a life that could never be.

As she filled the kettle she wondered, for the millionth time, why her son, the easy-going, funny, charming boy she'd known had so abruptly turned into a teenage terror, decisively laying all the blame for his father's absence on her. Where had the sweet-natured little boy who would pull at her sleeve to show her something, take her hand and lead her to it, gone? Her little darling with the twinkling eyes and the quick laugh, where was he? Who was the brooding menace she had gotten in return?

She heard the music decrease in volume and thanked Merlin she hadn't called him on it. It was apparently no fun to torture your mother if you got no response for it.

o.O.o

"You look tired, Gin."

"Gee, thanks, dad." Her dad's eyes followed her as she entered the office, hanging her cloak and depositing her briefcase on the desk with the tiny sign spelling her name. Next to it was a picture of a six-year-old James, smiling with a gap in his teeth winking and a miniature toy broom she played with on slow days.

"Did you not sleep well?" Since he was her dad and one of the people she trusted implicitly in the world, she sat down heavily as her shoulders slumped.

"James was in a right vicious mood all day yesterday. Finally I called it and we had a shouting match that probably woke the neighbors. I doubt I slept more than a few hours. I just don't know what to do anymore. I think he hates me, dad."

"He doesn't hate you, dear. He's a teenager. I recall you telling your mum and I you hated us and slamming a few doors during your teens." How could she tell her dad that it was so much worse? How could she tell him when she looked at her son she didn't recognize him anymore? "Why don't you send him over to your mum for a few days? She'll set him straight."

It was ever so tempting. Send James to her mum; see how he handled the wrath of Molly Weasley. After seven children there was little she couldn't deal with. But she shook her head.

"I need to figure this out myself. He's my son, I should be able to get through to him."

"Just don't take what he says to heart, Gin-bug." It was hard not to, when all he said were things she had accused herself of in her head. With a sigh she pushed the problem away, for now.

"What's on the agenda today then, dad?"

The Department of Magic-Muggle Cooperation was fairly new but had a lot of responsibilities.

"Check-ups on M-in-Ms, mostly." M-in-M stood for Magics in Muggle World. After the war, when the stigma of Muggles largely disappeared, many wizarding families had moved to the other side. There was more housing, more space, more jobs and all they had to do was keep their magic use discreet. It was a popular trend and their department was flooded with check-ups, as the use of magic had to be controlled.

Home visits with a spell performed to see what magic had been used within the house was one useful way to make sure the wizards weren't showing too much. Just last week Ginny had discovered a man who set fire to things in his apartment to get money from his Muggle insurance company. As the fires couldn't be explained the company kept having to pay.

With risks as those, check-ups were required. She didn't mind them, they got her out of the office and she got to talk to people. In fact she had been considering moving to the Muggle side as well, to get James away from all who knew he was the son of Harry Potter, make the reminders of his dad less frequent. Most seemed happy on the Muggle side, glad to get away from houses with ghouls banging on the pipes and less problematic pests than gnomes.

"Okay, hit me." Her dad handed her a list and Ginny scanned it quickly. It didn't look too bad a day. After grabbing her cloak again she set off.

o.O.o

The last name on the list gave her a start. Malfoy? She couldn't imagine anyone less likely to move to the Muggle side, but there his name was on the list, plain as day. Two registered wizards, _Malfoy, Draco_ and his son _Malfoy, Scorpius_, along with an address in London. Carefully she followed the Apparation directions and found herself in a lush, green glade. Confused, she looked around. This couldn't be London.

It was quiet and the air was perfumed with the smell of fresh cut grass and something floral. Around her were trees that must be centuries old, and a somewhat unkempt hedge. She saw a trail of stone slats and followed them, marveling at how pretty and peaceful the place was. As she went she began hearing sounds of traffic, muffled, but still there. She turned a sharp corner and saw the house. It was a beautiful Regency-style town house with a stucco porch, all white and graceful, with little wrought iron balconies and blue planters with flowers spilling over them.

"Incredible," she breathed and curiously approached the door. It was obviously the back of the house but being able to Apparate into your own garden in the middle of Muggle London had to be convenient. She knocked and as she waited let her gaze drink in more of the beautiful surroundings.

There was a little French café style table with two elegant chairs around it on a small patio, surrounded by greens. It had to be amazing to have coffee out there in the morning sun, maybe read the paper or stroll through the gardens with a mug in your hand. Under a shelter from rain was what looked like a comfortable rattan armchair. Someone had slung a blanket over it and there was a dent in the pillows, along with a novel and a cup. Her heart yearned a little. When was the last time she had cozied up with a book in a garden? Her little house had only a speck of token grass by the front door facing the street.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door opened. Then her brain could only form one coherent thought. _Wow_. The man in the doorway was devastatingly handsome, tall and lithe, in grey dress trousers and a pearl-white shirt. His thick blond hair fell in front of eyes the color of liquid mercury that just seemed to draw her in. They were dark compared to his hair and complexion and she just couldn't look away. His features were sharp, like the men in those Muggle ads for suits, with high cheekbones and a defined jaw. He lifted an eyebrow in inquiry,

"Weasley?" Hearing his voice, the same slight sarcastic lilt to it as the last time she'd heard it, back at Hogwarts, brought her back. What was she doing, drooling over Draco Malfoy of all people?

"Mr. Malfoy. I'm here on account of the Ministry." She tapped the silver badge pinned to the lapel of her black Muggle suit.

"Oh, you're our Magic-Muggle liaison." He said it with an air of slight amusement, as if it was funny to have such an office.

"Yes, I'm here to perform standard check-up procedure."

"Come on in then, Mrs. Potter." Straight-backed, she walked past him, into the house.

"It's Ms. Weasley, actually."

"Oh. Pardon me." He was surprisingly civil and she decided if he could be a grown-up, then so could she.

"No problem. I have to scan all the rooms of the house for illegal use of magic, and ask you a few questions. Would you prefer I scan before or after?"

"Before. I'll take you around, Ms. Weasley." At the moment they were standing in an entrance hall, with black and white checkered floor and pale green walls. Black and white photos adorned them and Ginny itched to peek at a few. She could see they were good. Another door, that she assumed was the street entrance, was directly opposite the door she had come in through and in between there was a stairwell on one end, and another door leading away to other rooms.

"Should we start upstairs?"  
"Please." Who would have thought, a Weasley and a Malfoy, painfully cordial, walking through an interior designer's dream? He led the way and the reached the end of a hallway on the upper floor. Malfoy knocked on it and waited.

"My son is home for the summer", he explained and Ginny nodded. She'd forgotten he had a son. She heard a muffled "come in" and they entered. It was surprisingly tidy. James' room always looked like he'd just been robbed, all drawers pulled open and their contents spread on every flat surface. This room had some scattered pieces of clutter but the floor was fully visible.

"Score, this is Ms. Weasley, she's here from the Ministry to check up on our magic use. Have you been playing around with those disemboweling spells? Cause she'll see if you did." Ginny almost fainted at his casual tone and then realized it was a joke. The boy sitting in front of the computer turned and grinned at his dad.

"But you told me to practice." Ginny saw that even though this boy was as dark in his coloring as his father was fair, they were nearly copies of each other. She pitied the poor teenage girls at Hogwarts who had to be pining for the young boy already. He couldn't be older than her own son, yet he was smiling at his dad widely, before nodding to her in greeting. She couldn't get James to behave with such politeness towards adults for any kind of bribe.

"Ms. Weasley this is the mutant I won in poker and pass off as my son, Scorpius. Score, Ms. Weasley and I went to Hogwarts together, once upon a time." She couldn't help smiling at the easy interaction between father and son.

"Nice to meet you, Scorpius."

"Score, " the boy corrected quickly. "But you look half my dad's age, Ms. Weasley, are you sure you went to school with him?" he asked innocently, but ruined the effect somewhat by smirking at his dad. She laughed as Draco sent his son a dark look, softened by a smile.

"I'm sending you back to the mutants, miscreant."

"Finally, I'll get to see my real family again!"

"And admire the family resemblance. Hey, you left your stuff out in the garden, it looks like rain so you should go bring it in." Ginny expected to hear an excuse or a flippant "I'll do it later", but Scorpius only sent a wistful glance at his computer before leaving the room. How come Malfoy had this easy-going relationship with his son and she couldn't say good morning to hers without getting shouted at? Was _Draco Malfoy_ a better parent than she?

"Excuse the joke, that's what Gryffindors usually assume I do in my…_lair_." His voice was humorous but she saw some shadows lurking in his eyes.

"If you were disemboweling people I'd assume you would hide it better." She thought she saw him smile as he led her down the hall.

Automatically she checked the room and saw only lighting and cleaning spells come up in the chart. She followed as Malfoy took her through the rest of the rooms, a study, two guest bedrooms, his bedroom, before heading downstairs again and repeating the performance in a dining room, a kitchen, a library, a living room and a storage room.

All of it was beautiful. Ginny couldn't help envying the atmosphere, the homey elegance of it. She'd have pegged Malfoy as more of a contemporary steel, glass and chrome type, with no room for homey clutter. But there was beautiful old furniture; all rooms looked lived in and there were scatterings of personality throughout.

The rain started to fall just as they got back into the kitchen and Ginny gratefully accepted the offer of coffee. This was her last stop of the day and a she'd need a caffeine hit to summon the energy to go home and deal with her son, who'd probably dragged his butt out of bed a few hours ago, then cluttered up the place while playing video games, expecting her to bring home food, cook it and clean up the mess he'd made.

Scorpius rushed in to escape the rain and she noticed he had folded the throw and put it in the living room, then put his cup in the dishwasher and brought his book with him upstairs. Tired after a long day, feeling strangely relaxed and at home in Malfoy's spacious kitchen, she couldn't help asking,

"How do you do it?" He looked up from where he was measuring coffee beans, putting them into a strange little machine.

"Do what?"

"Get your son to behave like that? My son behaves like the spawn of a bipolar grindylock. They look to be around the same age, you're raising him alone and yet he's so…well adjusted. Happy." He pressed a button on the machine and it made a terrible racket, but the smell of coffee, more intense than she'd ever smelled it, filled the room. He seemed to think as he got out something she did recognize, a cafétière, just like the one Hermione made coffee in. He put the now ground coffee into it and pressed a button on the kettle to boil it.

"He wasn't always. Score's mum was…is not interested in being a parent. She was never really there for him, always distracted by her own things. But I figured a little of her was better than none at all, so I stayed. But as Score got older I came to realize her neglect was just too obvious if we stayed the way we were. So I left. I took him and she didn't make a sound of protest. She's called a few times but I think she's happier without us." He'd gotten two blue mugs out of the cupboard and at her affirmative nod taken milk out. As the kettle popped to signify it was ready he poured milk into a matching blue jug and she thought her mother would approve.

"Score didn't handle it too well at first but he was just nine then, and he'd realized his mother didn't really want him. It made him act out. I thought seriously about locking him up and not letting him out until he was behaving like a human being again. I was at the end of my tether. I just didn't know what to do. In the end, I sat him down and talked to him like an adult. Told him I was sorry about his mother but that we were in it together now and would have make do with me, cause I was all there was. He seemed to respond to that. We're a team now and she's out of the picture. That's how we deal with things. He's my best friend as well as my son."

He set the brewed coffee on the table and when she thanked him, it was for more than the drink. Deciding he had been more honest than she could have ever hoped, and knowing he had been in a similar situation, she started to tell him the real story of what went on in her house. Haltingly at first, but faster and faster the words tumbled out of her mouth as she voiced her innermost fears, about ruining her son's childhood, about maybe staying with Harry, about him hating her for leaving his dad. Through it all Draco Malfoy just listened, slowly sipping coffee and nodding for her to continue.

"He doesn't hate you, you know."

"I'm not so sure anymore."

"It sounds to me like he is pushing at you because he knows you'll always stay. He doesn't know that about his dad. It's easier to take it out on the ones you know love you, cause they'll stay anyway. At the root of it I think all children blame themselves for not being enough, for not making their parent want to stay. He probably feels it's something he did, or didn't do, and now he's testing you to see if you're going to run too." It made such sense when he said it. Why hadn't anyone been able to see it before? Why hadn't she?

"It's not his fault! Harry's just…"She didn't finish the sentence, suddenly she felt like she was betraying Harry by talking of him with a person she knew he hated. Well, maybe not hated anymore, but certainly wasn't fond of.

"Not father of the year?"

"He is." But really, what was the point of hiding now? "When he has the time. It's not often." Malfoy nodded.

"Guess it's not easy juggling time between being the Savior, having people flock to you like goslings to a mother goose and maintaining your own life at the same time." She shook her head, surprised that he possessed enough empathy to put himself in Harry's shoes.

"No, it's not. There is always someone who needs help, desperately and he can't tell them no. I felt like a bad person for wanting more from him than what he could give but I think my son is better off without being benevolently ignored."

"Weasley, however noble the reason, neglect is neglect. You have to consider yourself and your son and do what's best for you two. Potter made his choice and put others before himself and before you and your son. Now he'll have to live with it."

Her own family hadn't offered as much support as she had just gotten from the most unlikely source imaginable. They'd all thought she was selfish for wanting more of Harry's time. But wasn't she allowed to be? She'd stood by him, never fully being part of his life for so long. She'd been supportive, tried to help, and he'd never turned to her. She wasn't sure he could. He was always going to belong to the whole world, not Ginny Weasley, and he wouldn't let het close enough to actually be part of his life.

It was time for a new chapter, a chapter for her and her son. Harry would always be in her life and part of her would always love him but it was time she stood on her own. She had to step out of his shadow, stop being Harry Potter's silently supportive wife. Always there to help him when he needed her and then to disappear into a needless void without him until he had time for her again. It had never been about her. It was time her life was hers again.

With a decision made Ginny felt as if part of the weight shifted from her shoulders.

"You're right, I think. I'm going to have to sort this out. Thank you for the coffee and the advice." He stood as she left and she cast a look behind her at the beautiful house she saw his silhouette, made shimmering through the sheets of rain, still in the kitchen. She thought he raised a hand in a wave and she responded before hurrying back to the Apparition point.

o.O.o

Draco Malfoy stood by the window, watching the rain fall in his garden, his mind on the woman who had hurried through it to the Apparition point. It had been a shock to see her again. The years hadn't changed her much, that vibrant red hair hadn't dulled and the figure in her dumpy suit was as supple as always. The second shock was to realize that she still made him want like he had as a teenager just from seeing her again. The years he'd spent denying it to himself had been of little use as one glimpse of her had his mind spinning the way it had when he'd been fifteen and she'd been forbidden to him in more ways than he could count. How he'd hated her for it, for making him want her while she probably cared less for him than mud under her shoe.

He sat back down to fiddle with his cup. Hers was still where she'd left it and just the knowledge that she'd held it in her hands, touched it with her lips made his heart beat faster. Merlin, Malfoy, get it together. She was just as unattainable now as she had been then. The Princess of Gryffindor, she had been his opposite in every way. Everyone had loved her, he remembered. Flocked to her like moths drawn to a light. In many ways that's how he'd thought of her. A bright light among the fluttering, grey, ordinary moths surrounding him. She'd whirled through his school year thoughts like a bright leaf in an autumn breeze. A splash of color, of life. Of something different. Beautiful, charming, funny and talented she had of course been destined for Potter all along. Married right out of school, a Quidditch career in the making and then a baby. Their happiness had shone mockingly at him from every wizard paper. Then when he'd moved to the Muggle side he'd lost most contact with the wizarding news. He hadn't known she was divorced.

Which doesn't mean anything, doesn't make a damn bit of difference, Malfoy. She'd rather date a hippogriff than look at you. And who could blame her. He knew what he'd been. Saw his son suffer for it every single day of his life. He'd moved him from the wizarding world to spare him the pain at least during summer but the boy was a wizard. He had to go to a magic school. There was nothing a worried dad could do for his son when he was hundreds of miles away at the mercy of the self-righteous victorious in the war. Nothing he could do about the children of his so-called former friends who shunned their housemate. Yet he could sit and pretend to be the best father in the world when Ginevra Weasley asked him for advice.

"Hey, dad, what's for dinner? Can we have pizza? Man, I'm starving. I could eat a whole…" His voice grew muffled as he stuck his head in the fridge and Draco smiled. Well, he did okay as a dad, if not exactly in a conventional way.

"We had pizza yesterday."

"So? You can never have too much pizza. Unless, of course, you're counting your calories, keeping fit for when sexy Ministry workers come to knock on our door." Draco arched an eyebrow as Score's laughing face reappeared from behind the fridge door.

"What do you know about sexy, midget, you're barely in your teens."

"Lots. I do a lot of research into what's sexy." His dark eyes twinkled, the same eyes his wife had looked at him with cold disappointment, yet in another's face they were warm and humorous. Sometimes it made him wonder if he'd ever seen Daphne's really happy. He didn't think so, not after having proof of how those eyes did look when they were laughing.

"Research, is it?"

"Certainly, it's all for science. Did you really go to school with her?" Score brought out the soda, poured a glass as Draco marveled, as he always did, how alike they were growing. His son was a copy of himself, save for his coloring, that was all Daphne's. He could remember seeing that face in the mirror, yet they were so different. As a teenager he'd been a prick, quite frankly, and the most popular Slytherin since Tom Riddle. His son was rejected by all in his house but was funny and generous. Sure, he could manipulate with the best of them and was proud and clever, a combination that placed him in Slytherin in the first place, but he seemed so out of place when Draco thought back to what he had been himself. There was no meanness in Score, no sense of always having been wronged, no need to strike out. Maybe it was as simple as upbringing. Every step his own father had taken had added another layer to him, layers it had taken years to rip off, a painful process he'd gone through to make sure Score would never have to go through what he had. Would never feel unwanted or as if he didn't measure up. That he meant less as a person than as a vessel to be filled. Never would Score have to hear his dad say, "Malfoys do not" or "A Malfoy always". Those words had been his undoing. He'd tried so desperately hard to make his dad proud of him and always felt as if he'd failed. His son knew he would always be proud of him, would always love him.

"Well?" Realizing Score was waiting for an answer where he was sitting on the counter (he hadn't been allowed in the kitchens of Malfoy Manor but he was sure that if he had, he'd been told Malfoys don't sit on counters). As always glad to see his son do something his own father would hate he replied,

"I did. She was a year behind. In Gryffindor."

"Oh, don't tell me…It's her, isn't it? The one you had a crush on at school?" In the name of honesty Draco had told his son as much when he'd come home over Christmas brokenhearted because Marcia Prentiss didn't even look at him. To be honest he wasn't true he'd term what he'd felt was something as pure as a teenage crush. He'd wanted her, on several levels, both physically and because she represented something he could never be or have. That, tangled with rampaging hormones and a war raging outside had made sure it was never as simple as an unresolved crush.

"Yeah."

"Was she as pretty as school?"

"Sure. She hasn't changed much."

"You didn't stand a chance, did you?" Draco couldn't help laughing at Score's pitying tone.

"No, I suppose I didn't. Prettiest girl at school and absolutely off limits."

"You could ask her out now. I didn't see a ring."

"Well, aren't you the ever-observant, Sherlock."

"Like you didn't notice." Draco chuckled and shrugged, crossing his legs under the table at the ankle.

"I might have. Unfortunately, this woman knew me at my very worst. She probably still sees me as the horrid little git who tormented her brother, her future sister-in-law and future husband." Score swung his legs down to dangle over the edge of the counter.

"Whoa. That's a few."  
"Well, I really did try my best to have them hate me." And he'd enjoyed it too. Being older and wiser he knew he'd been fuelled mainly by desperate jealousy but thinking back he still thought those three had been annoying. That holier-than-thou attitude and Potter's constant refusal to let other people help and thus putting others in danger being his main irritation. He didn't care if it was self-sacrificing, to him it just sounded stupid. But they hadn't really deserved all he had thrown their way. And thanks to Potter's ridiculous personality he was still alive, alive to see his son grow up. He could forgive the man for being annoying for that treasure.

"Well, she probably would have said no anyway, seeing that ugly mug."

"I'll agree with you there since we have pretty much the same face." Score laughed and slid off the counter.

"So, where did we settle on the whole pizza thing?"

A/N: Okay, this is something that's been kicking around on my computer so I thought I'd polish up the first few chapters and see if anyone likes it. If you do, please tell so I can start work on the later ones. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Welcome back and a special thanks to my lovely reviewers, Just Silence, Pizziagirl, Black Rose 851, arielgenevieve, Nutmeg 44, whatisfake and hatebelow. You made my week, guys!

Ginny couldn't believe it. After she had come home that day she had sat James down and told him it was just the two of them and however sorry she was she couldn't be both his father and his mother they were going to have to make do. Had to help each other. He was the man of the house and they were going to have to work as a team.

She'd been honest for once, told him how sad it had made her to see Harry's benevolent neglect, how she had wished his dad could be there more often. How she couldn't handle being only his support without getting any in return. At the end of it they had both shed some tears and for the first time in longer than Ginny wanted to remember, her son had given her a hug.

There were still issues to be worked out but on the whole the atmosphere in their house was miles better. James even smiled at her now. And all because she had taken the first shaky step towards letting her little boy become a man.

Knowing what had helped the most she returned to the beautiful townhouse with the private garden, a potted rose from her mother's garden in her hands. As he answered her knock she almost dropped the pot. He was still as gorgeous as she remembered, if not more so, with his hair untidy, his shirtsleeves rolled up and a plain white apron around his waist.

"I-ah…"

"Ms. Weasley, come in." She stepped in and caught the scent of something marvelous in the air. "We're making hamburgers, would you like to join us?" Hamburgers? She tried to picture the Draco Malfoy she'd known making hamburgers and her imagination fell short.

"Oh, no, thank you. I don't want to impose. I'm sorry to disturb you unannounced but I just wanted to give you this, as thanks for your help." She held out the pot and he accepted it.

"It's a prize specimen, Ms. Weasley, I'm not sure I deserve all that."

"Oh, no, it's not much. It's from my mum's garden, and I thought it might look nice here. I noticed you have some other kinds out back." She fiddled with her fingers, suddenly feeling stupid. Why had she brought the man a plant he had to put in himself? She could have just written a card. Or bought wine.

"Well, I've heard of Mrs. Weasley's roses. In fact I believe my own mother was rather jealous of them." Ginny couldn't imagine the aloof society lady ever being jealous of her own mother and it warmed her heart to hear it.

"As I said, it's not much but thank you for listening to me. And for giving me sound advice. It's easier to go home now that I don't have to fight a war every time I'm there."

"I'm glad then, Ms. Weasley."

"Did you get lost on your way back from the hall then, dad? Is senility setting in?" Scorpius' teasing tone travelled from the kitchen and Ginny smiled.

"Are you sure, Ms. Weasley? We make a fair burger and it's not often we get to entertain?"

"I…" There was really nowhere she had to be. James was at Teddy's, his outmost idol's house and wasn't coming back until the morning. All she had planned at home was a glass of wine with a microwave dinner and a TV movie.

"It's really no bother, we always make too much." As her mum had taught her it was impolite to refuse a sincere invitation more than once without reason she nodded.

"Thank you then, I would love a hamburger. But only if you stop calling me Ms. Weasley."

"Very well, Ginny. And it's Draco." She couldn't believe he actually remembered her name after all these years.

He brought her into the kitchen and for a second she was vaguely reminded of the Burrow. Not because of how it looked, this kitchen was spacious, with shiny surfaces and snazzy appliances. But the lighting was warm, the air smelled of cooking and music was playing, all things spelling home to her. Scorpius Malfoy was elbow deep in mince as he nodded in time with the music.

"Heads up, lady in the house." Scorpius looked up and she wondered if this was how adorable Draco Malfoy would have looked as a boy if he hadn't had a big stick up his butt for most of it.

"Ms. Weasley, it's nice to see you again." Something unreadable passed between father and son that she couldn't understand but she was impressed both by his manners and his memory.

"Ginny, is fine. Can I do anything to help?" Soon she was seated at the kitchen island, mincing lettuce and tomatoes, a glass of very nice white wine at her elbow, suddenly included in the nice picture. The music was still playing as Malf…Draco was turning burgers on the stove and Scorpius made something he termed "secret salsa". They were in the middle of a conversation about Quidditch and she was enjoying herself immensely.

"I'm right, aren't I, dad?" It warmed her heart to see the absolute trust Score had his dad would know the answer. She decided that even if Malfoy were to be wrong she wouldn't want to break that trust.

"Afraid not, young padwan. Ginny's right, and you've seen it in action, too. Remember when we went to see the Falcons last June? And I explained why the whistle was blown?" She didn't know what a padwan was but she could easily hear the affection in the term.

"Right, so _that's_ when you apply that rule!"

"You know, you can take Ginny's word for anything Quidditch-related. She's played for both Gryffindor and the Cannons." No one had brought up her short Quidditch career in years. She'd just started out when she had gotten pregnant and had to drop put of the team. The two years that had passed between quitting and taking care of baby James had changed her, she didn't really want to play professionally anymore. She'd still always love the game but as a mother she felt uncomfortable doing something so risky for a living.

"The _Chudley Cannons_?" Score's eyes were round. Her son had never been particularly impressed by her short Quidditch stardom, it was a small star compared to he supernova of fame that was his dad.

"Only one season-"

"-Which the Cannons won-" Draco interjected.

"-before I had my son."

"Do you miss it?"

"I still play with my family, but I don't miss playing it professionally. It takes some of the fun out of it."

"We play sometimes, if you get up really early and set up wards and invisibility spells in the park you can play without the Muggles seeing you." She saw Draco's face take a humorously innocent look over at the stove. He was probably well aware that was against regulations.

"Hmm." She decided to let it pass. It wasn't as if they were endangering anyone. "I bet it's a nice place to play."

"You could come sometime, and play with us." Suddenly his face was as innocent as his dad's and she wondered what mysterious game they were playing between them.

"Maybe. Your dad's not half-bad from what I remember." Which was true. Playing against Harry, the best Seeker in 250 years of Hogwarts history, probably wasn't the best measure of talent. As far as she could remember Draco had been a very talented Seeker, maybe even on level with Charlie. And he wouldn't have had to be, she recalled, as his dad had literally bought his place on the team.

"Why thank you ever so much, Weasley," he said drily and she knew from his tone he was more flattered than he let on.

"You're very welcome, indeed, Malfoy." She mimicked his tone and Score sniggered.

o.O.o

The burgers had been delicious and after Draco had reminded Scorpius it was his turn to do the dishes and topped up her wine they had gone to sit in the comfortable living room. The couches were very much man couches, she thought, all big and squishy. He waved his wand and a small fire lit in the fireplace, cheerily crackling away. There was a humongous TV that she thought James might faint of jealousy if he ever saw, along with a collection of DVDs and videogames that could probably rival all of her brothers' put together. There were more books, and on top of the mantelpiece, a recent shot of father and son.

Curled up on the couch, Ginny was again surprised by how at home she felt. They chatted about several of the movies she spotted on the shelf that she had seen, about books and the garden outside. When she ran out of inconsequentialities Ginny felt compelled to ask,

"Why did you move to the Muggle side?" He shifted in his seat and she saw his eyes seemed to pale in color, get flatter. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked. It's just you've never seemed the type…"

"Cause I'm a pureblood, you mean." He got up and stared out the window, into the darkened garden. "I didn't do it for me."

Gently he touched the rim of his wine glass, wiping at an invisible smudge. "I know it must seem like it would be…easier for me to live here. Where nobody knows me, or rather of me. Don't know I betrayed my school and everyone in it, and then betrayed the cause I'd done it all for in the first place. I know this. I know my part and my guilt. I don't like knowing it but I can live with it. But I moved here so Score could have at least three months of the year without being looked at like he's scum. He has no friends at Hogwarts. Because of me. What I did when I was _sixteen_. The sons of the Dark siders think he's the son of a traitor and the Light siders think he's the son of a Death Eater." She couldn't imagine it. That sweet boy, who was funny, talkative and obviously intelligent, had no friends? She felt ashamed on behalf of her friends' children.

"Why would they think that? He's a great kid, anyone can see it." She saw a quick grateful glint in Draco's eyes as he turned.

"I know it and I try to make sure he knows it. But it's hard to let him go to school every year, knowing he's miserable there. He tries to pretend he's not but I…I just don't know what to do about it." Ginny didn't either. She'd never been on the outside of popularity. It had been easy enough for her, people had always been drawn to her, followed her. When she'd become Luna's friend it was at no risk to her popularity since she was at the top of the food chain in Gryffindor. It was hard for her to realize that her son was one of the people who were not standing up for a boy who had done nothing to offend.

"Oh…I was going to ask you and Score to come to dinner at mine to repay you…but I see now that might be awkward. For Scorpius. James is in the same year at school." It now occurred to her that though Score in all likelihood knew who her son was he hadn't mentioned him once. "I mean the invitation stands, but you'll have to ask him. If he doesn't want to, I completely understand."

As she left it was with a heavy heart, a strange endnote to what had been one of the nicest evenings she'd had in a long time.

o.O.o

He dreamt of her that night. He was back. It was sixth year, he could tell because of the distance his eyes were from the ground. He'd been short until fifth year. If that hadn't told him, the sense of dread in rolling in his stomach would. Panicked fear twisted in his guts, mixing with a cold-sweaty sense of glee. Desperately afraid for his parents he'd felt as if he were a head shorter that whole year, not measuring up, knowing whole-heartedly, with the hopeless certainty of the condemned, that he was too young to deal with it. His parents' lives were in his hands. The two pillars meant to hold up his last year as a child had been torn down, felled and cracked with only him to save the pieces. And as little as he could carry a block of marble singlehandedly could he be sure to help them.

At the same time he finally had a chance to win. To be someone. His father would look at him with pride. The strings he always attached to his praise would snap and his approval be given freely once he'd proven himself. _Malfoys do not falter_. His father's cold voice was in his head, just as the high-pitched, whispery sound of pure evil was. He could never forget it. Just as he could never get rid of the touch of his long-fingered, spidery hands on his shoulder. The grip had been soft but he'd known what they were, what they could do and had felt like a tiny bird trapped in a cage made by those hands. A cage where the walls were steadily and cruelly closing in.

Then he'd realized he was in the Great Hall, habit making sure he reached it for breakfast. Not that he ate much anymore, but he had to keep up pretenses of enjoying this so called "honour". That's what his aunt had called it, her voice greasy with false affection as she simpered about hos great he would do, how proud he'd make his family. "_Malfoys do not show weakness_." So he would pretend to eat. Pretend his life hadn't been irrevocably ruined long before he was even born, on the day his father had accepted the Mark.

He sat and began pushing scrambled eggs around his plate to make it seem like he'd eaten some of them. Pansy sidled up and as always her perfume made his stomach shudder. It was too sweet, always made him think of what the overpowering fume hid. It seemed like something was rotting underneath. Perhaps Pansy's personality, which had been dead a long time. He almost smirked at the thought. True to her pug-faced appearance she followed any dominant personality like a dog, at the cost of her own.

"Draco," she breathed in what he imagined she thought was breathy sexiness. She sounded like an asthmatic long-distance runner on helium to him. After his curt nod that she was allowed to sit next to him he tuned her yapping voice out, focused on what he'd have to do during the day. High on the list was to lose Crabbe and Goyle, not a difficult task but sometimes time-consuming. And then he had to…

She walked in and as always he lost his train of thought. It was as if all sunlight in the Hall was centered on her, illuminating the face that always caught him off guard. The elfin-like heart shape of it, the porcelain skin that shone from within, the winged eyebrows, the slightly pointed chin. He'd dissected very feature of it to discover the source of the fascination. Yet, he couldn't place what it was. It could be those wide eyes, the irises the colour of melted chocolate and warm brandy. Or the fact that her hair tumbled like a stream of melted gold on fire down her back and around her face, drawing your eyes to her even when she was in the middle of a crowd. It could be the slight curve to her lips that made her always look like she was enjoying a private joke and was unapologetically sexy. Whatever it was it haunted him, made him able to recall every feature of it perfectly. Just as he could with her body. The girl had escaped the unfortunate gangly gene running in her family, leaving her short enough to probably fit neatly right under his chin, with well-proportioned limbs and long legs. The curves softened what would otherwise have been an athletic build and were generous enough to drive a man to distraction yet didn't make her look bigger than she was. Being somewhat fortunate in his looks as well he knew better than most that it was just a matter of luck (not breeding, whatever antiquated ideas his dad had on the matter) but with Ginevra Weasley there seemed to be something more, something vibrant and alive under her skin. Like a note humming below what noises a human could actually hear there seemed to be more than just her looks that drew him in. And for the life of him he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

She moved with a lithe grace that earned her serious skills as a Chaser and she was laughing at something that tool Dean Thomas was saying. For an instant he yearned to be the one whose hand she was holding as she led him to the table while the sun teased sparks in her hair and his words woke a similar glitter in her eyes. Then he pushed the thought away. He could never have her. Didn't want to have her. It was just physical. The girl was a looker, the whole of Hogwarts thought so. It was normal to think about wanting her. _Yes, but not about wanting to make her laugh_…his inner voice was snide and cold and though he knew it was his own voice it reminded him more of his father than himself. He shook to rid himself of the unpleasant feeling of never having lived a single day of his life as himself, only as his father's son, a Malfoy and basically a puppet whose strings were held by his father, tradition and his name.

_Besides_, he forced himself to finish the thought, just to prove he could deal with his feelings, no matter how distasteful, _she would never want you_. She wants goody-two-shoes, self-sacrificing idiots who fit the part of King of Gryffindor. She'd never want someone who...well, someone like him. Someone who didn't even know who they really were. But increasingly lately he'd been feeling that if he found out who he really was, he wouldn't like it very much.

_It doesn't matter! __**She**__ doesn't matter!_ With an ill-tempered scowl he stood, tearing his eyes from her and pointedly staring ahead as he walked out.

o.O.o

Draco woke covered in cold sweat. Sitting up in his bed he looked around. It was his room, he was back in his life. The time he'd served as a ventriloquist's doll was over. The room held no heavy bottle green drapes shutting him in, there were no priceless antiquities that he wasn't allowed to touch and the walls weren't covered in portraits of older generations of Malfoys that had frightened him senseless as a child but his father had refused to move from his room. Because Malfoys weren't afraid.

This room was airy and comfortable. The furniture was eclectic and a little worn, the large bed was left in the open, no hangings keeping him in. The pictures were the ones he'd taken himself. Some of Score, some of places he had been. The only reminders of the past were a picture of him and Blaise, the only Slytherin he was still in touch with, and a small sketch Snape had once drawn. It was all his, his things, his life, his house and in it he could live as _he_ pleased.

Though he hated the knowledge that his past scared him as much as any nightmare it made him content to realize he'd freed himself of it, had crawled out of the hole of predestination and broken the heavy chains of tradition, the chokehold of expectation. And through it all he'd learnt a very good lesson in how _not_ to raise a child. Perhaps that was something for him to thank his father for. With a snort he got out of bed. Glancing at the clock he saw it was a little past three in the morning. He could conjure a glass of water but the remnants of the dream clung to him and to the sheets so he padded softly downstairs to give the memories a chance to die down before he went back to sleep.

The kitchen was cool and the summer night looked more like dusk than night. The smell of the jasmine in the garden wafted through a cracked window and Draco felt peace began to settle within him again.

"Hey."

"Merlin!" Draco whirled around and for a split second he thought he was back in the dream before he realized that the face was not his but his son's.

"Did you think I was a ghost?"

"In a manner of speaking." The ghost of himself. Of what he had once been only a ghost remained. It had his shape and outline but there was no substance to it anymore. The Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts had died a long time ago and turned into a ghost that only reared its head when he was at his most vulnerable, in his sleep. "What are you doing up?"

Scorpius leaned on the kitchen island, scrawny and pale in sweatpants already too short at the hem and an oversized t-shirt with the logo of his favourite band on the chest.

"My guild needed me. They're mostly American so it's hard to match up the time zones. We slayed a dragon. Looked like a Swedish Shortsnout but it was a lot harder to kill than we thought. It took three tries but Will figured out that if you spam the…" Draco was grateful enough that Score at least had some friends online, or whatever it was called, to not mind the weird hours it made him keep. At least there were some people his son could talk to out there, even if it was at three in the morning. "What about you. Why are you up? It's way past your nine o'clock bedtime."

"Funny." Draco leaned against the counter and sipped his water. "Just a dream."

"Oh." The reply was casual enough but Draco saw the sidelong glance of concern he received as well.

"Not that kind, Score." There were worse nightmares than remembering who he had once been. He sometimes dreamt of what had gone on in Malfoy Manor during what should have been his seventh year. The screams, the terror, the disgustingly dirty side of defending a twisted ideology that no one wanted to remember afterwards. What he'd seen in there, what he'd been made to do, would never leave him. It had left as black and dead of a scar as the Dark Mark he bore.

His parents had in a seldom seen surge of parental concern shielded him from some of it. But some wasn't all and the rest had been plenty to feed the growing seeds of self-repulsion he'd carried inside. In the end, once it was all over, he'd had to rebuild himself from the ground up, his way. It was the only why he could ever deal with having been a part, however passive, of what had passed in that final year of the War. Still, dealing didn't mean forgetting and he assumed the rest of the wizarding world felt the same, as they seemed happy enough to eschew his son for the sins of his father. No one was forgetting. "I dreamt of my Hogwarts days…But it wasn't all unpleasant." And it was true. Though he'd hated the thoughts at the time, the ones he'd had about Ginevra Weasley, they were probably among the nicest ones he'd had in his seven years of school.

"You dreamt about her, didn't you?" The teasing note was absent in his Score's voice and it worried him.

"I did. I used to think about her a lot back then, it's only normal she'd be in it when I dream of my time at school." Scorpius looked away, his dark eyes fastened on the blooming jasmine.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"Ask you what?" Normally he could easily follow his son's train of thought but he was stumped at this one.

"I heard you, in the living room. She asked us to dinner. She said that you should ask me if I wanted to go. Why didn't you ask me?" Draco put the glass down. He had to tread carefully. He didn't think Scorpius knew just how well aware he was that his son had no friends. How guilty he felt about it. It was too heavy a burden for a child to bear.

"I just figured since her son is in Gryffindor you might not want to go and be forced to hang out with him."

"You're lying to me. We said we'd never lie." Draco ran his hand through his hair as his heart bled when the pride that refused to let his son back down from a challenge, took control. The same pride that had him square his shoulders and jut his chin when he boarded the school train for another year of writing made-up letters about friends that didn't exist and outings and adventures he was never part of.

"I wasn't lying. I was trying to phrase something awkward in a way that would…make it less awkward. I know that you don't have…that you aren't exactly popular at school. And I know it's because of me. I know you won't tell me because you think I'll blame myself for it. And I didn't tell you I knew because I figured that if we pretended, then it would make it easier for you. Score," he waited until his son met his eyes, the tired look in his son's scaring him more than he could ever admit. He was just as powerless to help with it as he had been as a teenager to steer his fate. "I _know_. And I will blame myself for it, no matter what you think. Because it's true. You would never have to deal with this if I had…If I had been different. Stronger. Smarter. Hell, maybe even if I'd been dumber, I'd've just gone for broke and joined the Order. But I didn't and I have to live with that. It pains me that you have to too."

"I don't blame you, dad. You were just a kid. I just…I know how much you wanted to say yes and see Ms. Wea…Ginny again. But you didn't even ask because you thought it'd make me unhappy." For the first time in a long time Score's bottom lip trembled.

"Well, yes. I'd never do anything to hurt you. Sure, seeing someone I had a crush on in school was nice but I don't-"

"You're lying again. Do you think I can't see it? You're punishing yourself by saying no. Do you think I can't see the way you look at her? You want to see her again and you're not even going to try because you want to be as unhappy as you think I am! Want to punish yourself, or whatever. Well, I don't need a martyr. Just as badly as you want me to be happy, I want you to be. So save this self-sacrificing crap and call her." Scorpius had crossed his arms over his chest and was staring back out the window. Draco blinked. The light had brightened outside and the morning seemed to have brought cold with it. Harsh, biting cold. With a deep breath Draco soothed the twisting, burning metal coils that always wound tight in his abdomen when his son cried. It made him want to lash out, kick and hit until whatever hurt him was bleeding and dead.

"When did you get so smart?" Scorpius blinked away the unshed tears and managed a laugh.

"I've always been smart. I take after my dad."

"Come here, you smartass." As he hugged his son, Draco wondered when he'd managed to do something to make the universe think he deserved Score. He sure as hell didn't know.

A/N: Thank you very much for your nice reviews, it always makes my day to get one! I'm really glad you like it and I hope you keep reading and enjoying.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mum, will you stop fussing?" James asked exasperatedly as she adjusted the table setting slightly for the thirtieth time. She had rushed around since lunchtime to get everything ready. She'd hoovered, dusted and scrubbed the floor within an inch of its life, made dinner preparations before rushing into the shower and then spent half a lifetime picking out what to wear.

The deep blue dress had seemed a good choice at the time, not too fancy but with enough fuss to not seem to be something you lounged about the house in. She didn't think it had ever been out of the closet. It had been an impulse buy from the last time she'd gone shopping with Hermione who had pushed it on her and told her it was gorgeous with her hair. She'd tried to tame it a bit for the evening, brushed it back and pinned it, but stubborn tendrils refusing to stay in place fell around her face. She rarely bothered with make-up but had dusted her pale skin with some blush and put on some mascara.

Then she'd rushed to set the table and finish dinner preparations. Now she was just nervously padding around, fussing with things, picking them up and putting them down in the wrong place. She was behaving as if this was a date and she knew it was ridiculous. She and Draco were…tentative friends. At best. She'd met him twice since Hogwarts now and though she could vouch for that he'd changed a lot she was still surprised by how immediate, how violent the attraction had been. Had it always been there?

Thinking back to her school days she had to admit she'd been more than a little attracted to the boy he had been. Mostly because of his looks, which she was reminded by his son had been impressive. Almost like a butterfly he'd shed the short, pointy faced and skinny cocoon to emerge tall, lithe and with a face that struck somewhere between archangel and a rogue prince. There was something definitely timeless to the elegance of the bone structure, the high cheekbones and deep hollows of his cheeks, the strong shape of the hood of his eye and the sharp line of jaw. Recalling it, she was sure it would have made an eighteenth century lady's heart flutter as surely as it did any schoolgirl's. She could remember being vaguely annoyed by it, bothered that someone as petty could possess a face more suited to the front of a novel or an old painting. Bothered that he made her heart stutter, purely from hormones, of course. Infuriated he had perfect lips, saved from femininity by their set, and wasted in a face that used them only to sneer. Even if it had been a hell of a sexy sneer. Annoyed that he had eyes that were an impossibly dark shade of grey for his complexion and because they seemed to have hidden depths behind them. The depths any woman would be tempted to do anything to fathom, to be allowed the privilege of knowing the pain they were all sure would be there. There was nothing as effective on the female hormones as a perceived wound hidden by a bad boy attitude. But she had managed to ignore all of it because he had been a little git to her friends. That defence had gone up in flames as she'd seen the care and love he held for his son, for the home he had created for him, for the easy relationship that could only come from him being a great dad. Ginny knew her attraction was climbing unknown heights at record speed yet she couldn't make herself slow down. Not only because of James, or because she had just gotten divorced but because she had no idea if he felt even remotely the same way. _So hold your horses, Weasley and just enjoy having a friend over for dinner_.

In any case, both their sons would be there, it could hardly classify as a date. Not that she wanted it to be. It was _just dinner_, she repeated to herself.

"I'm not fussing." She _heard_ him roll his eyes at her behind her back. "And you remember what I told you? _Be nice_. Mr. Malfoy may have been a prat at school but he was _not_ a Death Eater, not for real, even you dad says so, and his son deserves to be treated better, no matter what his dad may or may not have done."

"Yes, mum, you've told me a hundred times. I've never spoken to the guy." No, Ginny thought sadly, the problem was that neither had anybody else.

"And no escaping up to your room on your own. It's supposed to be a nice dinner where we all sit and-"

"Ye-es, mum. Why is this so important, anyway?"

"Well, I had a lovely time when they had me over and I just want everything to be as nice for them here." James gave her a sharp look but nodded.

"Fine." He left her to her fussing and trudged upstairs. She'd only managed to bring him down to lecture him on his behavior because he had wanted a soft drink from the fridge but he had come down and he had stayed for almost all she had to say. Baby steps, she reminded herself, was the way forward.

Not five minutes later, the bell rang and Ginny rushed out to the mirror in the hall. Hair was in place…-ish, dress still stain-free and her make-up hadn't smudged. Then she realized she'd forgotten to put on shoes. She'd decided to pick them after the last dinner preparations was done as she could only choose between high heels, which felt ridiculous wearing around the house, or her everyday shoes, which looked funny with a dress. And now both pairs were upstairs and she was barefoot. The bell rang again and with a frustrated sigh Ginny went to the door.

"James, they're here," she called and opened.

"Hi, welcome." She stepped back to let them in and felt her mouth go dry as Draco stepped in wearing a light grey sweater of what could only be cashmere, and jeans. The man was criminally gorgeous. He should be made to get a permit or something. His eyes widened slightly when he saw her and she hoped it wasn't because she looked ridiculous in a dress, with bare feet, staring at him like he was a priceless piece of art.

"Er, here." Score interrupted the silence and handed her a beautiful bouquet of flowers. "Thanks for having us."

"It's my pleasure. These are wonderful." She heard heavy steps come downstairs and turned to James. He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking sullen, with both his hands stuffed in his pockets. He couldn't look more different from Score if he tried. He was wearing worn jeans ripped at the knee, a black t-shirt with a band name on it and his hair was a mess. Scorpius stood in pristine jeans and a white Oxford shirt, his hair tidily brushed. He was just looking at James, his eyes cool. The moment was stretching and Ginny tried to think of something, anything to say as the tension built. She wished her son would at least introduce himself to the other boy, or at the very least acknowledge their presence.

"You must be James. I'm Draco." Draco held out his hand, nothing in his voice betraying he was greeting a thirteen year old boy and not an adult. Slightly shocked, James shook his hand before he could regain his sullenness and stuff his hands in his pockets again, Draco continued.

"I hear you're playing Wicked." Draco leaned on the banister, all graceful ease as

he nodded towards the room upstairs where music was pounding. "They're good, but they're nothing compared to when they had their original base player. I saw them in the Leaky Cauldron before they made it big." James' eyes widened and the smile escaped him before he could help it. She could have kissed Draco.

"Yeah?"

"Sure, that's when they were still called Patronus. What else have you got up there?" James started rattling names as he led Draco and Score upstairs and she almost wept with gratitude. Not only did Draco deem what her son listened to music, but he knew something about it as well. He returned ten minutes later, reporting the two boys had found a mutual taste for wizarding rock and video games about stealing cars.

"Thank you. I don't know how I would have handled that situation without you."

"No problem. He's a nice kid, you just have to get past his defences. You remember how it was back then, all adults were against you, didn't understand you, had never been in your position?" She smiled,

"I don't know, I think I might be getting too old to remember. I just feel like…I've become "mum", you know, and I'm nobody outside that role to him. I'm not even sure I remember who I am outside of it. It was nice of you to show him not all of us adults are boring."

"Ah, most of us are. I mean, I might've taken Score to a few concerts but I always wished I was at home, with my slippers on, watching a BBC criminal drama." She laughed but knew he probably fitted in as well at a rock concert as he did in the living room of his beautiful house.

"Would you like a beer? Or wine? I'm making shepherd's pie for dinner."

"My favorite. I'll take a beer, please." Pleased that she'd thought of buying beer she took one out of the fridge. Then paused.

"I think I'll have one as well. I haven't had beer in years." And why not? She liked it. To her it had just been associated with Harry. He drank beer and she drank wine. It was silly, really, as if she couldn't have one if she liked. She made a note to remember to get it again as she got the bottle opener.

"To firsts in a long time, then." Her eyes locked with his and suddenly his words seemed to take on a new meaning. He really did have the most amazing eyes. So dark, so magnetic, pulling her deeper every time she looked. He put his beer down and took a step towards her. She caught his scent, something dark and masculine and felt heady. His sweater looked so soft, she wanted to run her hands over if, feel the soft fabric over hard muscle and…

The two teenagers noisily returned to the kitchen, James loudly exclaiming he was starving to death and would perish if they didn't eat soon. Draco easily picked up his beer and had a long pull at it. She tried to order her features into some semblance of normality as she went to the oven. Merlin, she was more attracted to him than she'd thought. Maybe this dinner had been ill advised.

The rest of it passed in a boisterous manner, James seemingly back to the easy-going boy he had been before the divorce for the evening. He laughed himself silly over Draco's and Score's easy teasing and had something admiring in his eyes as he talked to Draco. She admitted she might wear a similar look herself as the gorgeous man made her son laugh himself senseless. Again she was reminded of the Burrow, the chatter of young mingling with the deep, calm, voice of order. In fact, having grown up with six brothers she had little trouble keeping up in the male-dominated room and she even thought she gained some points with her son.

Then Draco and Score had left, along with an invitation to join them for movie night next Tuesday, which James couldn't wait to go to since he'd heard of the enormous TV.

o.O.o

Knocking on her son's door she heard a muffled "come in" and entered. Trying to stifle the instant "mum" response that came with stale air and excessive amounts of laundry she turned her eyes on him instead, as always feeling a little prick of recognition at how similar he looked to his father. The jet black hair that would forever stick out impossibly, like he just got out of bed and had a hedgehog for a pillow. Reflexively she walked in and smoothed it down.

"Mum!" He batted her hand away as he focused intently on something on the screen of his computer. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, the same way she'd seen Harry's a thousand times as he focused on a difficult spell, the spiky black lashes painting shadows on his high cheekbones. She knew the colour of them was the same golden brown as her own but everything else about them was his. It was his mouth that was clamped tightly as he paid rapt attention to some little numbers that were rolling on the screen. His narrow face, his sinewy wrists and still narrow shoulders. It made it even harder that he wouldn't pay enough attention to his son when he was a copy of himself. It should've reminded Harry of what he never had. Made him try to be there for his son as his father had never been able to be there for him. Instead he was the father of a nation, not his son.

Trying again she laid a hand gently on his shoulder. She felt him tense for a moment, readying to shake her off, but with a small sigh he accepted and just let her hand rest there. It was a small victory but Ginny treasured it.

"How was talking to Score tonight?"

"Mum, I'm busy."

"Can't you pause it?" With a longsuffering sigh, James responded.

"You can't pause games online. They're other people in it."

"Oh. Well, how was it?"

"It was fine, he showed me some cool games and then we had dinner. I think you were there." She decided to ignore the snide tone. At least he was talking to her.

"Games? On the computer? Did he bring them?"

"No, mum, _online_. We might play one next week. I just have to…" Ginny didn't really understand the rest but caught something about levels and catching up before two people could play. What she did understand was that the two boys had plans. Okay, tentative plans, but it was something. Happy, Ginny squeezed his shoulder and backed away.

"He's really nice, you know, Score, I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, can I play now?"

"Yes. I'll just go to bed. And…thank you, for making an effort tonight." She'd gotten almost out into the hall when she heard him reply,

"It was all right." It took someone special, she thought, to make her son deem them all right. Draco Malfoy was special.

Making her way into her bedroom she sat down in front of her vanity, slowly pulling the pins from her hair. It was a long time since she had been interested in anyone. A long time since she had dated. Not since Hogwarts. And here she was, 32 years old, divorced, raising a teenage son, contemplating it. It hadn't come up before since she hadn't really thought of it much. Nothing put a damper on romance like divorce papers. It had been a vague possibility that sometime down the road, when James was older, there would be time for her again.

But after tonight she was sure of one thing. She wanted Draco Malfoy with an intensity that scared her slightly.

She'd always found sex a nice pastime, proof of intimacy and if done right, very relaxing. But there was nothing relaxing about this. Her body seemed wound tight and when he looked at her she thought the air got that loaded quality it had just before lightning struck. She wondered if that was what it would be like, to be with him. Like lightning striking.

Ginny wasn't really sure what to do about it. It was all new, all strange, so she decided to try and take it slow. He might not even feel the same way. There had been that moment in the kitchen but that could have easily been just her imagining things. He'd recovered awfully quickly if things had been as she thought. As she wanted to think they were, she could admit to herself. And why not, Draco Malfoy was an attractive, single man, a devoted father and both intelligent and funny. It wasn't against the law for two single people to try for something new. It would just have to be given time. She felt she was on shaky legs in the dating department and had never been seeing anyone she hadn't been friends with first. This was different. At school they had been as far from friends as two people could be and now they were practically strangers. As she pulled on her nightgown she wondered how different that would make things from what she knew and whether it would be a good kind of different or a bad kind of different.

o.O.o

"How were…Did you…I mean, when you and James were upstairs, did everything go alright?" Draco had managed to keep from asking the question almost until they were home. Mainly because he'd focused on how amazing Ginny had looked in her blue dress with her feet bare and vibrant hair tumbling around her face. But as they reached the front door he couldn't help it anymore. Score shrugged and entered when he held the door open.

"It was fine."

"Fine?" He knew he sounded like a woman probing a man for his opinion on her shoes but couldn't help but prompt him. His son sent him a bemused look over his shoulder.

"Fine. Potter is okay when he's not trying to be funny or pretend he's the frigging master of the universe. I showed him some of the games I play online and he's going to try them out. We might play together, unless he sucks at it." Draco's heart swelled in relief. Maybe they weren't friends but the son of the man he disliked most in the world had at least talked to Score. That was more than could be said for the children of his former "allies".

"Okay. Good. Great."

"I guess. I'm going to go to bed. Night."

"Goodnight." Score trudged up the stairs and restlessly Draco went into the kitchen. He knew that if his son said it had been fine, then it had been fine but he couldn't help worrying all the same. Would Potter Junior realize Score was more than just the son of his father's school nemesis, or would he just add more hurt when summer was forgotten and house rivalries made themselves known again? Annoyed that he couldn't let the matter just play out on its own he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

"Got another one of those?" Recognizing the voice Draco smiled and picked up another bottle. Turning and tossing it towards the man in the doorway, who plucked it easily out of the air and leaned his tall form against the doorframe, Draco greeted him.

"Zabini."

"Dray." The former Slytherin was the only person from school Draco was still in contact with though they had never been close when they went to Hogwarts. The friendship had grown more out of a mutual dislike for certain traits of shared among most members of their former house. Neither of them would ever wish to be in another house but found many of their peers to be boring, mindless followers with little imagination. So when they had bumped into each other after graduation a tentative friendship had been started that to equal surprise to both of them had turned them into best friends.

"What brings you here?" Zabini raised one suit clad shoulder in a shrug He wouldn't use both unless he had to. He was the laziest man ever created and only vanity ensured he didn't weigh three hundred pounds from sheer lack of moving. The man didn't stand if he could sit, didn't sit of he could lie down and so on. And thus, true to his nature he sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island as Draco leaned against the counter.

"We're out of beer at home."

"And you couldn't go to the store on the way home?" Surprisingly enough he put effort into his work and often stayed late at the office. Considering his suit, Draco guessed that's where he had come from.

"I can't Apparate to the store. I can Apparate here and Apparate home." Pointing out Blaise had about a two-minute walk to the store was of little use so Draco didn't. Instead he asked about his friends' wife who was heavily pregnant with their third child.  
"How's Luna?" A huge smile broke out on his friend's face.

"Great. She's convinced it's a boy this time. The girls are thrilled, I think they imagine we're getting some sort of really fancy doll." Blaise and Luna's twin daughters were three years old and an adorable force of destruction. Seeing Blaise's eyes light up as he talked about his family Draco was amazed at the turns fate took.

At school, Blaise had kept to himself a lot and been quiet. Girls had interpreted it as being brooding and mysterious and that, added to his great looks had had them falling over themselves to get to him. Draco hardly thought he'd minded but in 7th year he had suddenly stopped seeing them all as he began dating Luna Lovegood. Or at least, so he'd heard afterwards since he hadn't actually been there himself. According to Blaise he'd just bumped into her one night and she'd been the least predictable person he'd ever met. After that he'd started noticing her around Hogwarts and after a few weeks had managed to accept the fact he had a crush on the "school weirdo". So he'd asked her out and for the first time in his life he had been rejected.

"I don't even know you," she'd replied. "I'm not even sure you know yourself." In the end, to Draco's ever lasting amusement, he had been allowed to come on a search for the elusive Snotnosed Swamplurker. They were nasty creatures that lived in bogs and Draco would have paid a lot of money to see the seventeen year old, snobbish, pedantically neat, Blaise Zabini traipse around a bog, muddy water to his knees and his expensive shoes ruined.

In any case, after it Luna had deemed him worthy of being her friend and later, her boyfriend. And Blaise had found someone who didn't care about his name, his status or his money, in fact, Draco knew, she didn't even care about her husband's looks. He knew Blaise found that a relief, as most people always assumed things about him when they met him. Curling black hair and a flawless coffee-and-cream complexion, paired with tawny eyes and lithe build made his friend look something of a mix between Caribbean pirate and Renaissance poet and women were forever making him up to be things in their heads he could never be. But not the woman he had married, one of the rare people in the world who only cared about the inside of a person.

They lived close by in a house on the Muggle side where Blaise worked as a lawyer while Luna worked as a journalist at her father's paper, the Quibbler. With twin girls and a baby on the way, their happiness seemed complete.

"Glad to hear it." He had a pull of his beer and suddenly Blaise's eyes suddenly narrowed in speculation.

"Where have you been?"

"Out."  
"Where?"

"What are you, my mum? Are you going to ask me who I talked to as well?" Draco crossed his arms over his chest and Blaise adopted a prim tone as he replied,

"I most certainly will, young man." He dropped the act and arched a brow, "Especially since you're wearing your date sweater."

"What?"

"Your date sweater. You only wear it when you want to impress a woman, which is why I've seen it about...twice, in as many years."

"Do you have some sort of anal notebook where you write down what I eat and wear and use night vision binoculars to spy on me when I shower?"

"Yes, of course. If I were you I would regrout your tiles. Once it's too late, damage will be irreparable. I should know, I just sued someone for neglecting to point that out the other day."

"Did you win?"  
"Of course I did, don't try and change the subject. Who is she? Is she hot? Do I know her?" Blaise leaned forward on the stool, angling his head as he smirked at Draco.

"Forget it."

"I am hurt, wounded to my very core by your callousness. Didn't I tell you the other day about how hot Luna is pregnant?"  
"Yes. And I wish you hadn't."

"You're just jealous that I have a blonde goddess of love at home."

"I think I prefer red-heads." Draco said absentmindedly as he fiddled with the corner of the label on his beer.

"Aha! She has red hair, then. Well, that's not too surprising, you've had a thing for red hair since that weird crush you had on the littlest Weasley in school."

"Will you just go bother someone else?"

"No, this is way too much fun. You're actually squirming. I never get to see you squirm. It's fascinating. I may have to call home and say I won't be home tonight. I have to torture you until the facts are in the open. It's my duty as your best friend."

"It's your duty as my best friend to go home and shu-" Score, clad in pajamas and holding an empty glass entered and Blaise's eyes lit up.

"Score! Just the man I wanted to see, the man with the answers! Who is your dad seeing?" His son's eyes darted to him before widening in absolute innocence.

"No one that I know of."

"Do you think I'd buy that look? Your dad was giving me that look long before you were ever born. Like that time he promised my Finn Dougal rookie card had been stolen by a Snotnosed Swamlurker."

"Your wife believed me."

"Bite me. So Score, where were you tonight? You can tell your favorite uncle."

"We had to go to dinner to convince our Magic-Muggle liaison we're normal."

"You have to do that now as well?" Blaise looked appalled. "Our liaison is a fat, balding man who sweats profusely and thinks deodorant is for sissies." The clinically neat Blaise shuddered.

"Sorry, man." Sending Score a grateful look he took another sip of his beer. Blaise was his best friend but he didn't know if he wanted to tell him about Ginny yet. Because there's nothing _to_ tell, he told himself.

"I have to go home and tell Luna the sad news. Last time he came to the house we had to air it for an hour. If he stays for dinner we'll have to fumigate." Score snorted in laughter and Blaise gave him a dark look. "Think it's funny do you? Maybe I'll invite you to the dinner, see how you like it."

"I'm afraid I'm going to be out of town. See you, uncle Blaise." Score retreated upstairs and Blaise turned accusingly towards him.

"He's becoming more like you every day."

"I have nothing to do with it, I swear."

"You both think you're so damned funny." A smile broke out over his features. "Damn Malfoys. Well, I'm off. Thank you for the beer." He steered towards the living room and the floo before turning in the doorway. "Oh, and Dray, don't think for a minute I've forgotten you wore your date sweater to your Magic Muggle liaison dinner. But if you don't want to tell me, I'll wait. Bye, loser." Draco smiled into his now empty kitchen. There was no fooling Blaise. Even when you thought you had the man was two steps ahead.

Putting his now empty beer bottle in the sink he headed up the stairs to got to bed. Hopefully, if he dreamed about Ginny again tonight, it'd be under better circumstances than last time.

A/N: Hi, sorry for the wait, I've really struggled with this chapter, arguing with myself over which bits should be in it and which of them shouldn't. Hopefully, you'll like the finished product. Thanks to everyone who has read so far and a special thanks to my lovely reviewers who always make my week, Nutmeg44, arielgenevieve, Pizziagirl, hatebelow, whatisfake, orangpigeon19, BlackRose851 and Guests.


	4. Chapter 4

In an attempt to look casual Ginny wore jeans and a sweater. If the jeans happened to be her treasured pair that made her butt look smaller and the sweater was one that hinted at a little more cleavage than usual it was purely coincidental. She was going for the "I just threw it on five minutes ago, yet I look amazing" look.

When they arrived, James deemed the house "cool" and the garden "pretty sweet". The TV however was "beyond awesome". The friendship between the two boys seemed to be solidifying as they sat on the floor and munched popcorn, cheering and cat calling as things blew up on the screen. She really wished they'd sit on the couch. As it were, it was just her and Draco and she was so aware of where he was it felt as if she'd put a Tracking Charm on him. Wherever he was, her body seemed to know, feeling a pull behind her navel, similar to travelling with a Portkey, if less violent.

He was just sitting there, watching the movie, smelling divine and looking as good as sin in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. If she'd been in any doubt of his shape it was clear now that he did something. Ran, played sports, whatever. It was all long, slim muscles under that shirt and her hands ached to play over the hard planes.

She had no idea what was going on in the movie. She doubted the plot was very complicated but with him there it was impossible to concentrate. So when James expressed an urgent need for more popcorn she jumped at the chance. Away from him, away from the incessant need to touch him that was attacking her brain like a million little ants. Well in the kitchen she drew a deep breath and leaned her hot forehead against the cool door of the refrigerator. How was she supposed to deal with this? Her son was in there, Merlin help her, and was probably the only thing preventing her from pouncing on Draco.

He shouldn't be allowed to sit all cool and collected, looking immaculate and so damn tasty just a few feet from her. She wanted him to not be able to look away from her. She wanted him to suffer like she was suffering.

Give it up, Ginny, she thought. The man is a walking heartthrob; he must have hundreds of girls lining up. Girls who're better looking, younger, not divorced mothers of teenagers who hadn't had a date in fifteen years. He liked her well enough, she was a friend in the same situation as he was, raising a child on her own. But he didn't have her like a fever in the blood. Didn't feel like kissing her until he was out of air.

"Are you okay?" She snapped her head up.

"Ah, yes. Just warm. I was…looking for a bowl." He leaned on the doorjamb and crossed his arms.

"Cupboard on the right." She opened it and stood on her toes to reach it.

"I can't quite seem to reach…" She could, if she really tried. Or she could get her wand out and summon it. But she heard him cross the room and her heart started beating heavier, slow almost painful beats that she was sure he must be able to hear. She felt the heat of his body as he reached over her, into the cupboard. His chest brushed her back as he leaned in and she felt a shiver run from the tip of her scalp down to her toes. Slowly, he put the bowl down in front of her, both of his hands holding it, with his arms on either side of her, almost like an embrace. Without breaking contact she slowly turned, her eyes downcast. His arms tightened around her and she finally dared to look up. She didn't have time to read the mood in his eyes before his mouth was on hers and everything around them dimmed. Her senses seemed to bring sharply into focus all that he was doing at once; everywhere his body was touching hers, brought into harsh clarity.

With a moan she didn't know she'd been holding back she pressed him closer, feeling the hard planes she'd been fantasizing about meld with her curves. Her hands travelled over the expanse of his back and wound themselves in his beautiful hair. She thought she felt him groan, through the layers of fabric between them that suddenly seemed way too thick. She wanted his skin, she wanted to know what he tasted like, everywhere. She felt his tongue skillfully push against hers and she deepened the kiss. His arms tightened around her waist before he completely lifted her off her feet and turned them around, roughly pushing her up against the wall. She brought her legs up around his waist and pushed with her heels to bring them closer. As she felt his core press against hers, a mewling sound escaped her, a plea for more, anything, just more. From the way her blood was pounding there she could have sworn her heart had traveled south inside her body.

With one arm still supporting her weight his unoccupied hand reached the hemline of her shirt and pushed under it. His hands on her bare skin felt like nothing she had ever experienced as it sent shocks straight from his fingertips to the building pool of desire at her core. It was too much, yet she needed more and her hips rolled helplessly against his. A groan tore out of his throat as he matched her actions and the liquid heat inside her threatened to erupt.

"Mum, where's the popcorn?" James called from the living room. They both froze and Draco gently put her down. Wide-eyed she met his eyes, darker than ever with a desire no one had looked at her with before.

"Merlin," she breathed.

"I'll say," Draco chuckled weakly. Her voice slightly unsteady she called,

"I think we're all out." A chorus of "oh, man!" rang out. She heard the movie credits start to roll, the explosions finally ceasing as she and Draco stood, both breathing heavily.

"Mum, can we watch another one, _please_?" Merlin, she couldn't stay near this man without ripping his clothes off for another five minutes, let alone an hour and a half.

"Next time", she called back, "we're going to have to go." More disappointed sighs resounded and then a lot of shuffling. Quickly Draco pulled at her hand to turn her towards him.

"I was going to wait to ask one more night but it seems…unnecessary now. Will you… go out with me? On a…date?"  
"Yes." The answer was out before her brain had fully caught the question.

"I'll call you."

"Just…we might have to slow down a bit. I have…things to consider." She said just as the Thing in question burst through the door.

"Man, mum, you missed the whole end bit! It was awesome, there was one guy who just swooped in and he planted a bomb and it blew up the White House. It was awesome."

"And when that assassin came in through the window and just slit his throat from behind?" Score added, and her heart lifted. It was so normal. The teenage boy excitement over blood and explosions.  
"That was pretty sweet!" A play by play followed as Draco kept her hand in his, their joined hands hidden behind the kitchen island. She had a hard time concentrating on her son's rendition of a scissor kick when he kept caressing the point in her wrist where her pulse still hammered. In the end she had to rather rudely interrupt her son to remind him to get his jacket but he seemed in too good a mood to mind and the two boys drifted out, talk of explosions along with several sound effects echoing in the hall.

"Can I just say, by the way, that you look beyond awesome tonight?" Ginny laughed at his use of her son's words.

"You can. You look pretty sweet yourself."

"So I'll make you a deal. We'll slow down, but you can't wear those jeans again." Thanks, trusty Levis, she thought.

"Deal. But you can't wear that grey cashmere sweater."

"Fair enough. You've got a deal, Weasley."

"Pleasure doing business with you, Malfoy." She saw his eyes darken again as he opened his mouth to reply. Then the boys were back and with a hurried goodbye she ushered James to the Apparition point.

o.O.o

_Sweet Merlin, Morgana and Circe_! Draco closed the door to his bedroom and leaned against it. If he had ever imagined that moment…and okay, he had, numerous times, it hadn't been close to how it actually felt to kiss Ginevra Weasley, to feel her skin under his hands.

It had been…explosive, violent, like being swept up in a whirling storm, all sense of the now losing importance as you just got pulled along. His son had been in the next room and it hadn't mattered, her son had been in the next room and it hadn't mattered. They had been in his kitchen for heaven's sake and it hadn't mattered. Slowly, he sat down on his bed. He would have to be more careful from now on.

He'd thought the infatuation had died a long time ago but it seemed now like it had only been gaining strength under the surface and the old feelings mixed confusingly with the new. There was still that undeniable ache to touch her which he knew well, the way he couldn't keep his eyes from searching her features for the answer to why they were so compelling to him. Yet there were new ones too. Feelings that had nothing to do with how she looked or who she had been at school. How she struggled to do her best for her son, how her eyes lit when she looked at him, the very same way he looked at his own son. The admiration he felt for her leaving a husband she still loved in many ways to stand on her own. How she worked tirelessly to support her son when all she had to do was whisper and Potter would drown them in galleons. The way she laughed, that full, rich sound and the glimpse of surprise that came a split second before it, like she was surprised to be laughing. He wanted to make her laugh. To make her content, to make her happy. He lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to make her want the way he wanted her. And maybe, just maybe, she could. He'd always imagined she'd be sweet, gentle but she had matched him step for step, pulling him closer, wanting more. Wild unbridled passion was what he'd tasted in her. It beat sweet any day.

And he'd get the chance to have it again. He couldn't believe it, he was actually going on a date with Ginny. A real, grown-up dinner, just the two of them. Suddenly sweat broke out on his palms. No buffers in the shape of their children, just him and his sad story. Would she still like him if she knew him better? Would she be disgusted if she knew all his truths? Know that he was weak? He rolled over on his side and reprimanded himself. He was not that boy anymore. He was an adult who made his own choices, and good ones too, if his son was any indication. So he'd…He smothered the thoughts. Had she said anything about it? No. She'd known him, well of him, in school and she'd still say yes. _Which only means you have more to prove_, the snide voice in his head added.

There was a knock on the door and Score poked his head in, his hair sticking out on either side, which Draco knew was a sign of him having worn his headphones.

"Hey." Draco sat again to lean his back against the headboard. Score wandered in, disinterestedly picking things up and putting them down again.

"Hey yourself." Slowly he was making his way towards the bed.

"So…" He spoke as he poked at the picture of him and Blaise on the mantle and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Ye-es?" Smiling at himself for dragging it out, Score turned and blurted, "What happened in the kitchen?"

"I think you may be too young to know." His son whooped and jumped up on the bed.

"Really? Just now? You had sex in the kitchen?" Draco lost all air in his lungs in shock as he was torn between a desperate urge to laugh and be stern.

"Merlin, no! We were in the kitchen for five minutes and you two midgets were in the next room. We kissed, you little pervert." Score fell forward in mock despair. Then he peeked up to look at his dad.

"How was it?"

"R rated. And great. That's all you need to know."

"R rated means tongue and-"

"- it means none of your business." Draco drilled a finger in his ribs and Score laughed and squirmed helplessly.

"I give! I give!" Score rolled away panting from laughter and exhaustion. Draco pushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned back against the headboard again. "So what happened next?"

"We got interrupted by two inconsiderate popcorn-seekers."

"You should have put a sock on the door."

"Ha-ha. Do you need another lesson in manners, there?" He joked and Score rolled away.

"No! Not the tickling of death!" Draco smiled and was glad that was among the worst "punishments" his son ever had to endure. His own father had been less considerate in his choosing.

"But then, we decided that we're going to go out without the hindrance of teenage presence."

"You're going on a date?"

"That we are." Score laughed again and rolled back closer to pat him on the leg.

"Way to go. I can't believe she said yes. Do you think it's out of pity?"

"Aren't you just hilarious today? If you don't watch it I'm bringing your baby pictures to the date. I'll show them around the restaurant."

"No, no, I didn't mean it! Why wouldn't she say yes? I mean we share genes after all!" Score pleaded.

"Oh, now you admit it?"

"Well, when you get dates with hot redheads I can admit we're related. Normally, not so much." Draco laughed and lounged for him.

"Okay, that's it, now you're getting it." His wider reach ensured he could catch Score and with an evil cackle he brought him close, Score already wriggling and laughing.

o.O.o

In the name of their new, honest relationship, Ginny decided it was only fair she told James of her date. It had gone over less than ideal. First he'd just looked uncomprehending.

"A date?"

"Yes. Draco and I are going on a date. On Saturday."

"No." it had just fallen from his lips as his eyes grew wide and Ginny felt like she'd run over a puppy.

"James…"

"No!" Then the betrayal had turned to anger. "No. What about dad?"

"Baby, I've told you, I'll always love your dad but we're not together anymore."

"But he still loves you too. Why can't you just be together?"

"I know it's hard to understand but we're just…not right for each other. We can't give each other what we need." She tried to reach for him but he backed away.

"You mean you. He didn't give you what you wanted. He was happy before you divorced him, he didn't want to go through with it." How could she tell him that Harry had been relieved to get rid of at least one responsibility in his life? How could he know how it had hurt to be married to a man who never looked at her or talked to her, who just needed her silent support to get through the day.

"Yes, James, I mean me. I need more than what he can give me."

"But Dr…Malfoy can give it to you?" James' voice was trembling.

"I don't know! Maybe. We'd like to get to know each other better."

"You said he was a bastard at school! Dad said so too, and now you want to date him?"

"_Language_, James Sirius Potter! He was just a boy! He is a good man now and I want to know him better. That's all."

"You can't! You _can't_ do that to dad!" His voice shook precariously on the high notes.

"James…" Tiredly she sat down at the kitchen table.

"No! I'll hate you for it!" Then he whirled around and left. Seconds later she heard the front door slam. With a deep sigh she laid her head down on the table. She'd thought enough time had passed, that he'd realized his dad wasn't coming back and maybe, just maybe that he would see that their earlier life hadn't been perfect. She'd selfishly hoped that when he saw Draco and Score interact that he'd realize what had been lacking all along.

Maybe she should call Draco. They didn't have to go out so soon. They'd just met. They'd kissed once and…as the memory of it swam back in her head she realized she couldn't wait. Not when she knew what it was like to kiss him. To feel that intense want, the expectation as loaded as a volcano before it erupted, the need for release vibrating in the very air around it. She would either have to never see him again or give in to the want. Reaching for the phone she wondered why she felt so sad to give up a man she'd only met four times. Actually she did know. Not only was she fiercely attracted to him but she actually liked him. Liked the way he interacted with his son. Liked how he took the time to give advice without making you feel small. Liked how he tended his house and his life. Liked how she could see how he'd do anything to make his son happy. With shock she realized he was everything Harry had never managed to be. A real father, a listening ear, a caregiver for a home.

Slowly she put down the phone. She'd talk to James again. If it was still making him unhappy she would have to decline, she knew it. Remembering Draco's words about children blaming themselves for their parent's failings she decided she'd have to approach it differently.

In the end she hadn't had to as James had come back from Teddy's (his place of refuge), his head hanging in shame as his outmost idol had apparently given him a long lecture on thinking of other people and their feelings.

So he'd shuffled in, his head hanging and mumbled,

"Sorry, mum." Hugging him she'd felt his skinny ribcage shake with sobs and her heart broke.

"James, if you really don't want me to, I won't go. Okay?" He'd looked up, his eyes wide in wonder as tears hung from his lashes, spiky with moisture. Then he drew a deep breath.

"No. It's okay. You should go." He wiped his eyes with the back of his arm, a gesture so typical of him that Ginny felt for a moment she had her little boy back. He drew himself up and she got to witness his second shaky step towards manhood. "You should have fun." She felt tears in her own eyes as she watched him.

"Thank you, James, that means a lot to me." Then he surprised her again, suggesting she get a new dress for the date. And made her eyes tear up properly when offered to pay for it with the money his dad sent him.

"Geez, mum, he always sends too much anyway," he'd exclaimed as she hugged his writhing form.

"Thank you. But I'll get myself a new dress." Pressing a kiss to his forehead and brushing back his hair she felt his arms tentatively close around her waist and felt that maybe life would be as perfect as it had once been again.

o.O.o

Instead of letting Harry pay for anything she cut into her savings, a small but steady part of her earnings always went towards it and she thought she'd earned a new dress. And some new underwear. And a haircut.

Surveying the end result she thought she'd done okay. For a 32 year old she was in good shape. Quidditch for fun and traipsing around on Ministry errands kept the voluptuousness she'd inherited from her mother in check and having had James very young her body had changed very little permanently. Her stomach would never be absolutely flat and her thighs would never be considered skinny, for that she loved her mother's cooking too much. But her waist was still small and her body evenly proportioned. Her breasts were no longer 22 but having secretly compared herself with her sisters-in-law she thought they weren't too bad either.

Her skin had always been flawless and tonight she'd take extra care to put on scented body lotion, slowly enjoying herself as she felt her muscles relax. The haircut was good, it made her hair look carelessly styled instead of crazy rat nest and she'd left it the way the hairdresser had blow-dried it earlier.

The dress hugged her in all the right places, falling just past her knees in a river of dark plum silk. What was on underneath was nicer than anything she'd bought in years. Usually it was all cotton and comfort for her, but tonight she wanted something special. Not that he was going to get to see it, as they had decided to take things slow, but she'd know. Know that she looked better than she had in years, all the way down to her skin. Fluffing up her hair and slipping into her heels, slightly scuffed black peep-toe pumps (her money wouldn't stretch quite as far new shoes) she went downstairs.

"You look good, mum." James was sitting on the kitchen counter, munching on cereal straight out of the box.

"Thank you. Now, do you have anything you need? The number to the restaurant, Draco's number, Granny's at home and you've got your-"

"Mum, I'm _thirteen_. I can walk over to Teddy's on my own and I can call if anything happens. I'm not a baby." Teddy lived with his grandmother in a house a few blocks away and was two years older than her son. It calmed her to know that while she viewed it as babysitting, the two boys viewed it as just hanging out. Maybe then he'd behave.

"Okay, okay. But you'll always be my baby." She pressed a kiss on the top of his head and he squirmed. The doorbell rang and to her surprise she saw James bounce up to open the door. At a slower pace she followed, enjoying the sound of Draco's deeper voice mingling with the rushed, excited tones of her son. She joined them in the hall and her heart almost stopped. He was wearing a grey suit, impeccably tailored, with a white shirt and a narrow black tie. Just seeing it made her want to ruffle him up, dishevel him and maybe have him use that tie to bind her wrists to the bed…Blushing furiously, she snapped out of her reverie.

"Mum, can I?"

"Sorry, can you what?"

"Can I bring Teddy over to Score's? Draco says it's okay and we'll _behave_, I promise." She met Draco's eyes over her son's head, something that was rapidly getting harder as he was growing like a weed. He shrugged,

"There's only so much trouble they can get into. Score's just there by himself anyway."

"See mum, he gets to stay home alone."

"Pick your battles, young man." There'd be the three of them and as Draco said there was only so much trouble they could get into. "Okay, you can go, if Draco says it's okay." James whooped.

"Thanks mum!"  
"But no going outside, and use the Floo, and don't-"

"Yes, yes, don't talk to axe murderers and don't get into any fights with gangs unless we're really sure we can take them." He smirked and she was reminded for a second of Scorpius. It looked like the friendship was thriving. He rushed off and Ginny got time to focus on the man in front of her again.

Only now she noticed he was carrying flowers, a bouquet of what looked like big, vibrant daisies.

"Here you go. I saw these in the store and thought of you." It could only be a compliment; the flowers were perfect, colorful and sweet. And she was glad he hadn't chosen roses. It was a predictable first date flower; she preferred it when they meant something. Roses meant love and should be reserved for those you loved.

"Thank you, they're beautiful." He followed her into the kitchen so she could put the flowers in water as they heard the hurried, "bye" before the whoosh of the fireplace signaled her son's departure.

"You look amazing, Ginny." Suddenly the room seemed smaller and her eyes kept tripping and falling into his gaze, getting stuck longer and longer each time.

"Ah…I…Thank you. You too." To distract herself she found a vase and filled it before arranging the flowers in the clear glass vase. She was sorely tempted to suggest they'd skip dinner and stay in, throwing all caution in the wind. But there wasn't just her to consider, she had to be careful with any man she brought into her son's life. Draco was already in it as the father of his friend, she needed to make sure this was really what she wanted. Not just getting him in bed but giving them a shot. When she turned back to face him he'd pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless, testing her resolve to the very limit.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…er, do that. It was just going to be a hello."

"Well, he-llo. Phew." He grinned and stepped back, holding his hands up before shoving them in his pockets.

"No more. They'll stay here."

"For now."

"For now," he agreed and the want in his voice made her knees shake.

"I think we better go or I'll forget why it was important to take it slow."

"Right. I guess…" He slowly backed out as she followed.

A/N: Next time, date night! Thank you so much to all of you who've read and special thanks to my lovely reviewers, it always makes me smile to find one of your comments: BlackRose851, a fan, Pizziagirl, Nutmeg44, Just Silence, 1994heidi, Jamie, orangepigeon19, JC and guests! I hope to see you next time/ Sannikex


	5. Chapter 5

A Side-Along Apparition into Muggle London, and a short walk later Ginny found herself in an Italian restaurant. She had expected him to take her somewhere somber and elegant with hushed conversation and snooty waiters.

But this was…chaos, she decided. It was unclear who was a waiter, who was a guest and who was family as everyone mingled, sat down at different tables. Sometimes someone went into the kitchen and brought something back. And when someone wasn't getting their food, they told the kitchen staff as much, yelling to them and receiving mainly rude hand gesturing in return. There was a lot of bustle, babies were passed around to be cooed over, children ran and played under the tables, old men drank grappa and argued in Italian. She had no idea why Draco had brought her here. It seemed like the last place on earth he'd want to be. _You don't know that_, she reminded herself. From what she knew about him now Draco was very different from the boy he had been at Hogwarts. Maybe he liked big, family-owned Italian restaurants now.

A minute after entering, one of the men drinking grappa spotted them, a large man with bushy eyebrows and twinkling eyes.

"_Ah, Draco! Dove sei stato? Io non ti vedo da settimane_!"

"_Ho lavorato. È bello vederti, Marco_."

"_Lavoro, lavoro, non c'è altro nella vita oltre il lavoro. A proposito del quale, chi è questa bella signorina?_"

"_La mia data_."  
"_Davvero? Meraviglioso! Perché non l'hai detto prima?_"

"_Tu non mi hai dato la possibilità di dirti_. Ginny, this is Marco, one of my oldest friends. He owns this place. Marco, this is Ginny Weasley, my date."

"Your restaurant is lovely."

"Not as lovely as you, _sei veramente bella, _signorina Weasley. Maria!" A woman who reminded Ginny in many ways of her mother bustled over, an apron stained with red sauce tied around her full waist.

"_Draco! Caro! Marco, cosa stai facendo solo in piedi qui? Dove sono le buone maniere? A tavola!_"

"_Sì sì, claro_. Come with me, _andiamo_!" He led Ginny and Draco to a table in the back, which was much quieter and only a large man was snoozing in a corner and a young woman reading a novel at a table. "_Spostare! Non vedi che abbiamo ospiti speciali? Luciana, il migliore che abbiamo per l'inglese e la bella signorina!_" The two figures hurried away and left the section calm and quiet. "You relax, enjoy. I bring the best we have. No hurry."

"Sorry if that was a bit intense."

"You've obviously never been to the Burrow. This place reminds me of it."

"It's a nice place." He pulled out her chair for her and Ginny sat.  
"I hope you don't mind me saying that it seems the last place I would ever find you."

"Well, I guess when I was young it wasn't." He sat down opposite her and looked around as if he was seeing it through her eyes.  
"Sorry, I know you're different now, I wasn't trying to say-"

"It's okay. Just don't let my schooldays influence you too much when you think of me. I'm sure you're not the same person you were either."

"What made you change?" He leaned back in his chair as Marco brought in a bottle of wine and a platter of olives, merrily winking at her before he left.

"Do you think I was a Death Eater?" She guessed it was only fair to tell him as much before he told her more of himself.

"No, I wouldn't be here if I did, Draco. I think you were young and horribly afraid. I don't think you had anyone to talk to and you feared for your family. If someone threatened to do to my family what he said he'd do to yours, I don't know what I'd done." She leaned forward. "Actually, that's not true. I would have done anything. So no. I don't think you were really a Death Eater." She popped an olive from the platter in her mouth and continued, "I do think you were an insufferable git at school, though."

"Fairly accurate." His lips twitched as he poured them both of the wine and took a sip. "Well, the way I was raised was always the main issue. I had been made to believe I was the center of the universe since I was a baby. Whatever I wanted I got. Along with high expectations of excellent performances, of course. Nothing is free in the world of Malfoys. I simply wasn't permitted to do badly. I had classes with a private tutor long before Hogwarts started."

"Lessons? What could they want you to learn before Hogwarts?"

"Oh, all kinds of things. To play the piano, to speak several languages, to draw, to duel, to play chess."

"But when did you have time to play, doing all that?"

"I didn't play much. It's not "conducive to timely development", according to my father." She'd known his childhood must've been very different from hers but this was worse than anything she'd imagined.

"_You weren't allowed to play_?"

"I was allowed to socialize under certain set circumstances with my peers to build future relations." And as bad as it sounded, it didn't sound half as bad as the words he was using, obviously in verbatim what he had been told by his father. The words of Lucius Malfoy didn't rest well on the tongue of his son. It was similar to the cold voice she'd heard him use at Hogwarts, except for lacking the admiration for his father that had always been there. It made it sound hollow, dead. She could just hit Lucius Malfoy for teaching his son how to use it.

"It sounds horrid." He chuckled and leaned back, slowly turning his glass by the foot of it.

"I was happy enough. I didn't know things could be different. It wasn't until I came to Hogwarts I realized I was different. I could speak Italian, French and Russian but I didn't have any friends. I could recite _The History of Ministry of Magic and its Leaders_ but I was lost when it came to how to behave around other kids. I could have probably handled it better but looking back I felt like the only choice I had was to get to the top on my terms, the only way I'd been taught how." Her heart ached for the little lost boy he had been.

"I met no resistance, in Slytherin you fight dirty or you get trampled, and I was the best at fighting dirty. I suppose the war was the first wake-up call I ever got. I know it's hard for you to even imagine what we saw in the Dark Lord but you were raised to be as certain he was evil as we had been raised thinking he was some sort of transcended being." She was one of the few people in Gryffindor who actually knew first-hand how persuasive the Dark side could be. She'd been in the Dark Lord's head as much as he had been in hers. It had made her realize there was temptation in it, something Harry had never been bothered by.

"We were convinced we were going to be the masters of the universe. Then I actually met the man. I lost everything I'd believed in that day. How could my father bow to this petty megalomaniac, I wondered, a despot who was the very thing we were supposed to get rid of? But if there was something He knew, it was who was in doubt. So he threatened my family and I was powerless, I couldn't sacrifice them. I don't care if that wasn't the brave thing to do, I would do it again to save them." Ginny nodded, she could understand that. Backed into a corner with the lives of her family in the balance she would have done the same. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Then suddenly the nightmare was over, the war was finished, Lord Voldemort dead. The second-wake up call was then, during the trials when our funds were frozen. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I had no money. The first job I ever had was here." He gestured with his glass to the walls around them. "In the muggleworld. No one would hire me in the wizarding world. The Montrellis took me on as a waiter since I spoke Italian and I think my entitled attitude lasted about a week under Maria's dictatorship. Our funds were released again but I stayed here. Here I wasn't a traitor or an excommunicate, I was just Draco Malfoy, a young man who'd in some way had fallen on hard times and therefore was welcomed with open arms into this large Italian family. And I liked him better than the old me. So I stayed, I even worked as a chef for a while. Marco taught me how to cook when he realized I didn't even know how to boil an egg. I'd never had to."

"You were a chef?"

"Cooking is just Potions made tastier." He shrugged. "I had a setback when I met Daphne again. She was a reminder of how carefree life had used to be. When I could do anything to anyone and answer to no one. Before I knew it we'd married on some kind of youthful, impulsive high and Score came along…"His eyes softened. "I had no bloody idea what I was doing. I held him and I was so scared. He was so tiny, so soft. I swore then that whatever my parents had made of me, I wouldn't make of him. So I dragged Daphne, kicking and screaming, to the Muggle world as well, sold Malfoy Manor and used the money to buy that house for them. At the beginning Daphne liked it, playing house and looking beautiful and serene with a baby on her arm. But when it really mattered, when he was teething or had the colic she just couldn't handle it. She'd just...go. Nine years I gave her to set things right, but she never did. So now we're up to speed."

"Almost. What do you do?"

"I invest a lot. I have several different businesses. I own all kinds of property. This building for example."

"You own this building?"  
"Marco and Maria were going to lose their lease because the landlord was an absolute crook. So I bought it off him and made sure the terms were fair." That explained some more of the welcome he had received. But it hadn't been like a fair landlord saving you from losing your home, more like a family member coming home, like he'd said. Her heart warmed as she realized he'd taken her there because they were his family. The family he'd made for himself.

"You really sold Malfoy Manor?"

"Yes. To someone who deserved that drafty hellhole. I might have forgotten to tell him only Malfoys can Apparate into the house so now he has to walk up the drive everyday. Small vengeance, but still."

"Who?"

"Theodore Nott." She grimaced. He really had been a monumental prick.

"Serves him right." Silence fell for a second and she saw that he was fiddling with his cutlery, his back ramrod straight. He was waiting for her to respond to the story, she realized. It must have cost him to be so frank about what were clearly painful memories. So she leaned forward, her hand seeking his on top of the table.

"I think you came out of it a better man. You learnt from what you went through and I admire you for that. Instead of staying the way you were, which would have been easier, you became your own person. I'm still glad I'm here and I'm not about to up and leave this chair." He relaxed.

"That obvious, huh? You'll have to tell me something about you now that I've gone on and on about me."

"I'm not sure my story would be very long or very interesting."

"Why did you marry him?" It surprised her that she wanted to tell him, wanted to explain.

"I did love him. When I married him it was because I wanted to, with all my heart. But then when I sunk into the shadow, becoming only his wife, losing sight of who I was I realized he was never going to be the support I needed. I was always there for him but I got little in return. I didn't want a marriage that was just one-way. I'll always love him but it's time I stand up for what I need. What I…want." She met his gaze and figured she hadn't lost her touch completely.

"And what is it you…want?" Her heart did a double beat as everything inside her screamed "_you_!"

"Right now? I want…" She licked her lips and lowered her voice an octave. "…pasta." He laughed.

"Easily arranged."

o.O.o

After one of the best meals Ginny had ever had they had moved out to the large tables in the crowded part of the restaurant. Just sitting next to him he made her feel so many things she hadn't felt in years. When he looked at her she felt beautiful. When he laughed at something she said she felt funny, when he listened intently she felt interesting. When he kissed her hand with a playful wink just as Marco had he made her heart beat heavier. She felt comfortable surrounded by his family, felt her heart swell as a little girl who couldn't be more than three years old climbed his lap, knowing she'd be welcome. She didn't feel old or frumpy or like just a "mum" when he smiled at her over the head of the little girl and made her insides turn liquid as he reached for her hand under the table as he made the toddler giggle.

Then he had been pulled in to the kitchen to experiment with a sauce Marco was trying out and Maria had taken his place, holding two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"For special occasions," she said with her melodious accent as she pointed to the label and Ginny saw it held the name of the family, Montrelli. "This is special occasion, Draco hasn't brought a girl here before." Ginny glanced over at him in the kitchen where he was bent over some pot, his jacket and tie discarded and his sleeves rolled up.

"He hasn't?"

"No, you must be very special. He doesn't let many people in to his life. I'm glad he found someone. He doesn't deserve to be alone." Briskly Maria opened the wine and poured.

"I…we're only on our first date." She confided and Maria chuckled and angled her head.

"First of many. I know. I read that boy like book. He's…ah, _come si dice_…a goner." Ginny felt her mouth drop open.

"Ah, I…Well, that's certainly…"

"You do not like it? That he likes you?"

"No, no, I do. I just…I haven't been dating I a while and I have a son and…" Maria waved her hand in the air.

"L'inglese! Always making things so complicated. Let me ask you, what do you feel when you look at him?"

"Happy. Warm…" She took a sip of wine and looked over to him again. He was smiling at something Marco was saying and turned slightly so he could catch her eye. "Like I want to kiss him until I can't breathe." Blushing as she realized what she'd said Maria chuckled.

"I can tell. You're a lucky woman. He has a face _come un angelo_, no?"

"He does. He always has."

"Ah, you know him before, si?"

"Yes, we…we went to school together." She didn't know how much he had told his…adopted family about his past.

"Ah, at Hogwarts? He told me," she whispered. In response to Ginny's stunned face, she continued, "He told me everything. Well, most of it. Some things are…" She let her expressively gesticulating hands fall and Ginny nodded. She knew the scars the war had left. Maria picked up again, "When he came here he was so lonely…and so skinny! I fed him right and gave him my spoon over the ear a few times, when he was rude." Ginny hid a snort behind her wineglass imagining the Draco Malfoy she knew from school getting hit over the ear with a wooden spoon by a stern-faced, wide-hipped Italian woman who probably reached to his chin. She would have paid good money to see it.

"And we realized what he really wanted was _una famiglia_, a home. So we gave it to him." She said it simply, as if it had been easy to take in a new member in the family, and Ginny was reminded of how Harry had become part of hers. That had been easy too. Taking a sip from her wine Ginny guessed that Draco Malfoy had needed a family as desperately at age seventeen as Harry had needed it at age eleven. And these wonderful people had realized it and made it come true.

Her heart warmed as she saw Marco sling his arm companionably around Draco's shoulders as they leaned over the pot together. She suddenly realized that this was where the new Draco Malfoy came from. Had that been what he wanted her to see? That what she knew from before had changed and in great part thanks to the family he had made for himself?

"It's a beautiful family. You have a beautiful family." Maria nodded approvingly as she glanced around.

"We do. I've been lucky. Do you have family, except for your son?"

"Yes." Ginny chuckled. "I have six brothers and six sister-in-laws, eleven nieces and nephews, and my parents."

"Ah, a dynasty, si? You'll have to bring them here. We'll have party." Maria patted her on the knee and looked up with a smile. "Ah, caro, there you are." She tilted her head and Draco pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you for entertaining my date." She stroked his cheek.

"My pleasure." She got up and winked at Ginny. "Make sure he behaves himself."

"Oh, I own a spoon or two myself." With a big laugh Maria headed into the kitchen.

"She told you that, did she?"

"Oh, don't worry, I won't do it. Unless you're really, really naughty." He held his hand out for her.

"I'm sorry you get left on your own, Marco gets very focused on his experiments."

"I wasn't on my own. Maria and I had a chat. It's fine. It was nice to meet your family." He smiled and pulled her up from the bench.

"Ah, you figured that out?"

"It's obvious. I can see how much you care for each other. I'm glad…Thank you, for letting me see it."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. While I got indented into slave labour in the kitchen." Ginny giggled at his put on affronted tone.

"What did you slave over?"

"New sauce. Too much salt, it was strangling the sage."

"Well, that is simply unacceptable."

"Are you making fun of me, Ms. Weasley?" His smile made her heart stutter. It was so long since she'd laughed so easily.

"I wouldn't dare. You might strangle me with sage."

"Smartass." He gave her cheek a quick caress and Ginny couldn't help but hold his hand in place, pressing her lips to where his pulse was beating in his wrist. They stilled and Ginny felt her heartbeat stop galloping, getting replaced by slow, heavy beats like waves on a shore, the pulsing of them filling her ears until there was nothing but him in her mind.

Then she realized it had gotten too quiet. Glancing around she realized they were getting unabashedly stared at with varying degrees of amusement and in some cases, nostalgia.

"Ah…I…" Draco stepped back, letting his hand fall and she heard a disappointed mumble. With a smile tugging at her lips at the owlishly blinking spectators she heard Maria bark something in Italian. Draco nodded and smiled, handing her her coat and shrugged on his jacket. Waving goodbye she let him lead her to the door. "What did Maria say?" He held the door open for her and spoke,

"She said the show was over and for them to mind their manners, leaving the "nice girl" alone and to let me walk you home." Ginny felt mischief rise within her. That was something else she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Did she now? I think she was wrong. I'm not a nice girl and the show had barely started." Then she dragged him close, buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him. Catcalls rose around them and Ginny felt his lips curve against her own as he pulled her closer. To keep it PG she withdrew a lot sooner than she'd want and with a glance in Maria's direction she saw the woman smile widely, her hand over her heart as she waved at Ginny. Waving her goodbye she tossed her hair and enjoyed the slightly vacant expression on Draco's face as she sailed out past him. With laughter bubbling inside her she held out her hand for him to take so they could Apparate home.

o.O.o

Draco knew the smile on his face had to be idiotic but no one was there to see it so he didn't care.

"You look like an idiot."

"Merlin! Announce yourself, will you?" Blaise sauntered into the kitchen, one of Draco's beers already in his hand.

"Honey, you're home!" He sat down at the table and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "You still look like an idiot."

"How long have you been here?" Grabbing some bottled water Draco joined his friend at the table.

"Do I need to clarify? I mean you look _more_ like an idiot than usual."

"I think that's just your failing eyesight. Did you hang out with Score and his friends? Cause that is kind of…creepy. And sad." He twisted the cap off and Blaise scowled. He hated people mentioning his bad eyesight, on feature of him that wasn't completely perfect. Draco would still treasure the memory of how he'd come to realize it. He'd gone over to his friend's and had found him squinting at some old legal documents; a pair of the Spectraspecs Luna had worn in school sometimes, perched on his nose. She'd noticed he couldn't see very well and had enchanted them to help. After Draco had stopped laughing too hard to hear Blaise he'd muttered about losing his real glasses. But it was too late, the image was forever lodged in Draco's mind.

"Speaking of creepy and sad, how was your date?" Draco arched an eyebrow.

"How much did Score take you for? If you got him that new game then I'll have to-"

"No. I guessed and you just confirmed it." Draco leaned back in his chair and Blaise leaned forward.

"Interesting. You know Score would never sell you out, not even for Halo. Which means, you knew I was tricking you. So actually…you wanted me to know. Intriguing. That can only mean you want to brag. Which means your date was not sad. The creepy part you can't help…She must be hot then. Now who do I know that you wouldn't want to tell me about at first but now that you're closing the deal you want me to find out about…"

"Should I just get a mirror and leave you to it, since you're not actually talking to me?"

"Shut up. I'm thinking." Blaise narrowed his tawny eyes and sipped form his beer. Draco settled down to wait. Zabini would never guess it and it'd be fun to watch him try.

"Well, you smell like Italian, which means you took her to Montrelli's. Meeting the folks, big step. But so early on? My money is on that she knew you at school. You wanted her to see you're not the same stuck-up prick you were. Now you're just a prick. So, who could it be…" His eyes widened marginally before narrowing again. "It's not Daphne, is it? Because if it is I'll put you out of your misery myself, right now."

"What? No." Blaise relaxed again.

"Okay…Well, it's no one from our house or you wouldn't bother taking her to Montrelli's. Someone hot who wasn't in Slytherin, then. Is it Chang? She's been giving you the eye since her divorce. Every time we're there for a game she's all like, "Oh, Draco, you came, how _sweet_ of you!" Draco snorted at Blaise's fair imitation of the former Ravenclaw seeker, now playing for the Holyhead Harpies.

"No, it's not Cho."

"Oh, I know, Amber. She's so into you now that you've _changed_. Always fluttering around you, her skirts are getting shorter and shorter. By next month she'll be without one entirely." One of Draco's business associates' secretary was the former Hufflepuff Amber Hills and she made sure to have a reason to visit his office at least twice a month.

"No, not Amber."

"Fine, fine…See, this would be easier if you'd cared about any girls but Weasley your last year at Hogwarts. Then I could…" Blaise looked up at him and his jaw dropped. It made Draco wish he had a camera as he smiled and tilted his head,

"Yes? What about Ginny?"

"…Oh, holy mother of Morgana. You're kidding me. It's Weasley?" Draco leaned back in his chair.

"That's right. We had a great evening that was never either creepy or sad. You must be judging me from your own limited experience."

"I'll get back to both how it's not sad or limited in a minute. But first, congrats, man." He toasted Draco with his beer and crossed his legs at the ankle. "I'll be damned. How did you do it?"

"With my considerable charms? Easy."

"You used Score, didn't you? Showed her what a shining example of a parent you were. That's cheating."

"You're just jealous you were to young to use it on Luna."

"Maybe. Seriously though, Dray, I…Do you think she knows how you felt at school?"

"No. And she shouldn't. I'm not that person anymore."

"I know that, and she probably does too if she's dating you but…It's never going to be casual for you. She just got divorced, maybe she…Maybe you're not on the same page." Draco shrugged. It was a very real concern and it did bother him. It warmed his heart that his friend was looking out for him. Not that he'd let him know that.

"Maybe she does want something casual. Maybe she just wants an in between husbands boyfriend. But I have a chance, Blaise. A better chance than I ever thought I'd have. However small, it's better than nothing. What do they say, it's better to play and lose, than not to play at all? Well, I'm going all in, I'm playing my whole hand and I'm going to hope for a strike."

"That is…the most abysmal use of game metaphors I have ever heard."

"Says the man who thought calling the kettle black meant the pot was racist."

"It so is. You're the one who…"

o.O.o

Score crept back up the stairs. He hadn't really meant to eavesdrop. He'd just wanted to hear how the evening had gone. And he didn't think he'd ever heard the tone of voice his dad used when he talked about Ginny. It made him worried. And a little sad. Like something was ending. The era of him being the only other person in his dad's life was over. Climbing into his bed, he berated himself. His dad had earned it, had earned the right to be happy. But it still made him feel very, very little again, tempted to call for his dad, hear his footsteps approach, feel his weight shift on the mattress when he sat down and be enveloped in the feeling that nothing would ever hurt him, nothing would ever change. But he squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his lips. He was not going to be a baby. He was going to let his dad be happy. Warm tears slid into his hair where he was lying and angrily he turned on his side, wiping them off on the pillow. Sometimes change was good, he reminded himself. His mum leaving had in the end been a good thing. Maybe this would be good too. Just as long as Ginny didn't hurt his dad like his mum had. But thinking back to how her brown eyes would shine when she looked at James he knew she was nothing like his mum. She loved her son, for one. And she was funny, and certainly pretty, and she made his dad happy. Maybe things could be different. Just maybe he could hope it would be.

A/N: By popular request, Blaise is back, I hope you liked it :) I hadn't meant to actually write anything besides Ginny and Draco's POVs but the little Score bit just refused to be edited out, so I'll leave it for now. I hope you enjoyed reading about their date as much as I enjoyed writing it and if you speak Italian I would like to profusely apologize for butchering your language with Internet translations. Thank you all for reading and a special thanks to my reviewers: hatebelow, BlackRose851, Nutmeg44, Mhale87, Jamie and Sareer Malfoy, you guys always make my day! See you next time, Sannikex.


	6. Chapter 6

Ginny hummed to herself as she sorted the clean laundry into piles of James' and hers. For some reason he amassed laundry, his pile was twice the size of hers and she couldn't figure out how. He seemed to always be wearing the same thing, jeans and a t-shirt, so where did all these clothes come from? But not even that mystery could bring her high spirits down. Her date had gone "beyond awesome", she thought and snickered as she recalled the stunned look on Draco's face when she'd planted one on him in front of his family. It had been such a relief to do something purely because it was funny. And okay, because she'd wanted to kiss him. Still, it made her feel ten years younger to give in to the mischievous side again.

So yesterday she'd felt brave enough to venture out and take the plunge. She'd bought a cell phone, her very first, and James had enjoyed trying to get her to buy the very latest model with the most ridiculous services she'd ever heard. Then he'd tried to convince her he needed it. In the end she'd settled for a simple one that had made James mutter something about "might as well live in the stone age". But she loved it. It was small, it could take pictures and, best of all, it kept her in almost constant contact with Draco.

After the purchase she'd had an enjoyable half hour when her son taught her to text. It was rare that she got to sit so close to him as she had yesterday. She thought by now that he might regret teaching her as she had put her new skill to great use: phone nagging. The repeated beep of his cell seemed to work a lot better than her shouting voice as she instructed him to clean his room. It only took 27 texts before she heard him begin stomping around, opening and closing drawers. Smirking to herself in triumph she'd gone to sort the laundry, maybe catch him still on his feet to put it away. Then her own phone beeped and she dropped the socks she was pairing up. Flipping the lid open she smiled as she found another text from Draco. He'd replied to her earlier question about what he was doing.

"_Grocery shopping with Score. Saturday is hell. Where did all these people come from?"_

"_Score came with you to shop for groceries?! :o"_ She painstakingly typed. She was extra proud she had picked up on the little symbols representing faces.

"_He likes to check out girls much too old for him and make sure I buy the right kind of cereal."_ Ginny laughed out loud to herself as her phone beeped again. _"Oh, oh, he found one. She must be at least sixteen. In hotpants. Poor guy."_ Ginny gave up on laundry folding alotogehter and curled up on the couch. _"Now he's "casually" following her around the store. Should I be worried?"_ She giggled and typed as quickly as she could,

"_My brothers did much worse than casually follow girls around. Until the turns her into a canary I think you're safe."_

"_Was that autocorrect or did you say canary?"_

"_Oh, I meant it. You're lucky I haven't turned you into an animal yet." _A second useful feature of texting, she'd found out, was flirting. Anywhere, anytime. It made her feel as if she was back to school in a delightful, silly way.

"_Well, now you're making me insecure, don't you like me enough to turn me into a winged vertebrate?" _The man used words like vertebrate to make a joke. She was in heaven.

"_Or do I like enough to spare you the experience?"_

"_You flatter me, Weasley. Like me enough not to turn me into an animal, in which form I'd be of very little use to you, how sweet. If you had to though, don't make it a ferret. Painful memories. Got to go, Score might walk into a wall and hurt himself if I don't tear his eyes off the hotpants."_ Still laughing Ginny put her phone in her pocket and ventured into the kitchen just as the home phone rang.

"Hello?" Laughter still in her throat died as Harry responded,

"Ginny? You sound…happy." She sat and fiddled with the cord.

"I am, Harry. Or I'm getting there."

"I'm…I'm glad, then. Listen, Ginny, I know I'm supposed to have James next weekend but I'm just slammed. There's this case and I wouldn't be able to see him much anyway, do you think you can…"

"Fine, Harry, I will, but you're telling him. I'm tired of making up excuses for you. You call our son and tell him you're too busy to see him."

"Ginny…"

"Don't "Ginny" me in that tone, you have no right to that tone anymore. Like _you're_ exasperated with _me_. I'm sick of it."

"I'm not "_too busy_" to see my son. I have three dead children and no leads and tomorrow I may have to look a fourth mother in the eye and tell her her child is dead. So don't make it sound like I'm "_busy_" with bloody paperwork!"

"I know, Harry, okay! I know better than anyone what you deal with. If things had been different I might even have been able to help you with them. But you can't lay your guilt on me. I can't take the blame for what you chose!" Breathing hard she took some calming breaths. "Listen, I know what you do is life and death, that you save lives everyday. But I have to watch James be disappointed every time you don't see him when you say you will or you don't call when you're supposed to. It's just…hard." She realized shw ws standing up and slowly she sat down again.

"I know. I…I do get it but I just…"

"Let's just…not fight about it. There's nothing to change about it. But you're still calling him yourself."

"I'll try to find the time to-"

"No. You'll call him right now." Summoning the voice of Molly Weasley she heard Harry shift. He was powerless in front of maternal decree.

"Okay, I will."

"Good…thanks."

"Bye, Ginny."

"Wait, Harry. What's James' favorite class at school?"

"DADA, of course. Ginny, I really have to go. Bye." Rubbing her temples she leaned back in her chair and sighed. Picking up her cell phone began texting Draco. _Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it_, her mind chanted. It was pointless. It was unfair. It was- He replied.

"_Transfiguration, you said, but Arithmancy is a close second. Why?"_

"Oh, Merlin." Draco Malfoy knew more about Harry's son after meeting him twice than his father did. She knew it was childish to compare them but she just couldn't help it.

"_No reason. Shopping finished?"_

"_Praise Jesus, yes. Score is looking like a lovesick puppy and sighing every two seconds since we left the store before hotpants did."_ She heard James' stereo turn on to a deafening racket and closed her eyes. It sounded like Harry had called his son.

"_I have a morose teenager on my hands as well. James' weekend with Harry fell through."_ Three seconds after she'd sent the text off her phone rang. Seeing it was Draco she picked up.

"Draco?"

"Hi, I have an idea."

"Yes?"

"We'll take them bowling. Score and James, that is."

"Now? Wait, bowling?"

"Yes, right now. Score is in the bathroom but I'm sure he'll hate it."

"Er, great? I'm pretty sure spending time bowling with his mum is pretty low on James' list of things he wants to do today."

"Exactly. What better way to make them think of something else than by making them do things they don't want to do?" Ginny laughed.

"You really think that'll work?"

"Why not? They'll be joined against us, deciding we're the most embarrassing characters created since the Village People. Great bonding. He's coming back now. I'll drag him over to the bowling alley. There's an Apparation point in one of the abandoned storefronts at the mall, from there just follow the sounds of forced laughter to the bowling alley. See you soon." He hung up and stunned Ginny could just stare at the phone. Laughing to herself she got up and her smile died as she heard a crash from James' room. She highly doubted it would help matters but there might be less property damage involved if she got him out of the house.

"James!"

o.O.o

She hadn't exactly dragged him there by the collar, but it had been a close call. The mention that Score would be there seemed to have tipped the scales in between a lot of sighing and eye rolling. So twenty minutes after the call, a quick change of clothes and a dash through her make-up bag later they arrived at the bowling alley. She spotted Draco's tall frame as he lounged easily in the booth that adjoined what she assumed was their lane. Next to him, looking sullen for once, was Score. With James trudging behind her she approached and Draco greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. James made some sort of half-grunt along with lifting a shoulder in greeting to Score and gave a side-long glance with barely a nod to Draco before slumping down on the couch. Score gave some mysterious little chin jerk in response to James' greeting and got to his feet and nodding to her, a polite smile grazing his features and she felt her heart twist a little. He was trying so hard to fight the teenage sulkiness that James completely gave in to.

"Hi," she said and wondered if Draco was going to say something. He was fiddling with the scoreboard, it seemed it was plugged in to a TV screen at the moment showing all their names. Then it updated and Ginny bit back a laugh as there were now two team names instead, "Champions of Awesomeness and Transcended Wisdom" and "The Short Stuffs".

"Okay, since none of us care about bowling I'm upping the stakes. The losing team will make dinner for all four of us _and_ clean up afterwards." Score looked like he was considering while James' jaw dropped.

"_Both_ make dinner and clean up? That's not fair!"

"Afraid to lose before even begin?"

"No. Bowling is super easy. Score and I will totally beat your ass…" he looked up at her and changed his mind, "butts," he finished lamely and Ginny swallowed back a laugh.

"As if, tiny person of much faith. Go pick up one of the baby bowling balls." She held her breath and waited for James' temper to explode, but to her wonder he just laughed and stood, dancing over to the shelf with balls on them, manfully trying to lift the heaviest kind.

"Like I need a baby one. Come on, Score, you gotta choose the right ball." Score stood and looked amused as he joined her son in his intent perusal of the brightly coloured balls.

"How do you do that? He was in such a bad mood just a minutes ago." Draco rose and lightly rested his hand at the small of her back.

"Distraction. Best way to deal with teenage tempers. Think of it like a terrier barking at some fabric caught in a fence."

"What?"

"Bear with me. As long as you just stand and shout at your terrier he'll focus on the fabric. Once you take out a bright green ball and throw it in the other direction, he'll happily bound after it."

"You're certifiable."

"I just have a way with words. Maybe not quite as good as you, I mean the poem you sent Potter was pretty amazing. The alliteration, the tempo, it was written in hexameter, right?"

"First of all, I can't believe you actually remember that, I don't think even Harry does. And secondly," she punched him lightly in the arm. "That's for bringing it up."

"He doesn't remember it? He always had slow brains behind those eyes the color of new-pickled toads and-" Ginny giggled as he trailed off when Score and James returned, each struggling under the weight of much too heavy bowling balls. He bent close and whispered, "Too easy. What do you feel like having for dinner?"

Ginny watched, amazed as the man kept James laughing for a whole hour, with lighthearted teasing, slinging insults like the bowling balls. She kept thinking that one of them would hit and metaphorically topple James' pins but he seemed to enjoy the manly tradition of it and tried to give as good as he got. Then when she and Draco won she expected a tantrum but he just grumbled, yet still with a smile on his face, about cheating. She began to wonder if the former Slytherin was some kind of teenage whisperer. She could never get James to either cook or clean up after himself.

Score on the other hand had seemed to forget all about older girls as he joined in accusing the grown-ups of cheating.

"If you weren't so busy losing you'd have seen that the two of us possess astounding coordination and dexterity and had no problem beating you without cheating. Therefore, we demand," he glanced over to her and winked, "tacos for dinner." Torn between delight of having one of his favorite foods and complaining James and Score set out in front of them.

"You like tacos, right?"

"I do. Did you have a penchant for it tonight?"

"I had a penchant for something that'd take them long to both make and clean up after, so I'll get more time with you."

"You are very, very smooth. Suspiciously so."

"Well, we're both smooth talkers. That brings me back to my earlier point. Hair as dark as a blackboard?" She laughed, more touched that he could remember a poem she'd written in first year than annoyed he'd brought it up.

"Sure, just revel in my suffering. I agonized for days over that verse. Besides," she sent him a sideways glance, "judging by how well you remember it I'm wondering if you were, perchance jealous? The great and might Draco Malfoy, jealous of a Valentine's from a skinny first year?" She raised an eyebrow, copying his trademark move.

"Of course I was. I only got a Valentine's from Pansy, and one from Crabbe."

"Crabbe?"

"He always was dim. He didn't quite grasp the concept of the day."

"Well, then I'm glad I at least outrank desirability over Crabbe and Pansy."

"Easy. Potter never realized what he had." The air seemed to still and Ginny felt a sudden weight settle in it. He couldn't possibly have cared about her as far back as in school. Couldn't have cared she was with Harry then. They'd been as close to hating each other as two people who don't know one another could. He seemed to catch it to and cleared his throat. "Of course, I made up for the lack of them in later years."

"I can imagine." The joke eased too heavy implications and she smiled. She could easily imagine it. He probably positively drowned in Valentine's cards in February. At least if the looks he was receiving from the two female teenage clerks selling sodas and nachos were anything to judge by. As well as the two mothers presiding over a kid's party, wearing jeans with elastic waists. And the all female bowling team wearing pink shirts with "Sunnyside's Retirement Home" written on the backs. Feeling a tad smug she hooked her arm through his as they left the bowling alley.

o.O.o

Ginny felt like she was in some weird and wonderful alternate reality. It was almost dinnertime and she wasn't slaving over her stove or feeling guilty over only providing her son with microwave food. Instead she could vaguely hear the clinking of plates and the laughing voices of James and Score as they made dinner while she walked with Draco through his wonderful garden, in the last of the sun before it sank behind the houses on the other side of the street. In a few hours she could possibly go to bed after a day of not fighting with her son once. She didn't know the last time that had happened. And next to her was man who made her laugh, made her want and made her heart beat faster. A man who seemed to, for whatever reason she couldn't quite fathom yet, only want to look at her, only touch her and only be close to her. A man who was raising a son to be mature, polite and free all at the same time. For the first time in a really long time she felt lucky.

"Listen, Ginny, about before…I…" He stopped on the little path and ran a hand though his hair, a gesture she now recognized meaning he was nervous or uncertain. "I shouldn't have said that about Potter…About never knowing what he had. I don't know what…what you two had and I shouldn't presume things about it just because…Well, because."

"I guess not…Draco, I'll always love him, in a way. I just can't be with him. He'll always be James' dad and I'd never in a million years regret what we did have once." He turned halfway away from her and put his hands in his pockets.

"I do know that. I just…" Again she felt unsaid words hover around them. She reached out and put her hand on his cheek.

"He called today. We fought, nothing out of the ordinary. But do you know what he said when I picked up? That I sounded happy. He was surprised. Can you imagine? It had been so long since he heard me happy, it surprised him. And I was happy, because I'd just been talking to you. _You_ make me happy, Draco." He slid his arms around her waist.

"Good. Cause you make me happy too. Idiotically so, Blaise claims." She let her hands trail over his cheek, twine into his hair.

"It's not the first time for either of us. There're bound to be complications. Two of them are in the kitchen as we speak. But I want you to know that I'm happy. More so than I've been in a long time." His arms tightened around her as he brought her flush against him. A murmur of approval worked its way up her throat as the hard planes of him melded with her. As he made her feel both vulnerable and wonderfully safe with his lean, hard frame and tough arms she felt incredibly powerful as she slid her lips over his and felt his heart speed up.

The sweet longing rose inside her as his tongue took her mouth, the yearning building when she rose up on her toes to get even closer. His hand travelled up her back, burying in her hair, pulling gently at it, the light pain of it shooting an arrow lust straight to her quivering stomach. Obliging his wish she tilted her head backwards and his mouth trailed to her neck, finding a tender spot and biting gently. A mewl escaped her and she felt the yearning bleed into need. His hands got firmer as the pounding desire woke like flames under her skin. _So long_, she thought, it had been so long, since anyone made her feel this alive, this bright. Warmth pooled in her belly as his lips found hers again and she let her hands wander over the broad expanse of his back, enjoying the sensation of his muscles bunching under her hands. His hand travelled down her waist, over her hip to her thigh and desperate to feel it stay on her she brought her leg up, letting his hand trail to her knee. Feeling him grip it she didn't think twice and used her arms around his neck to push herself up. He easily took on her weight and hoisted her higher, both her legs wrapping around his waist as she brought them core to core. Feeling the flames build into a roar in her head she ground against him with desperate urgency. She felt him groan, the feel of it reverberating through her chest. Working her hand between them she found the buttons on his shirt and set to open them without letting her lips leave his.

"Wait, wait, not here. Not now." Surprised she looked up and felt blood rise in her cheeks.

"Merlin." Her son was back in the house and though she probably would have heard him approach she wasn't sure. And she'd all but tried to drag Draco to the ground and have her way with him. Blessing their Quidditch-acquired balance that they'd not tumbled to the ground already she loosened her legs and he carefully set her down. Then she felt a laugh bubble up in her throat. Draco's hair was tangled and his shirt half-open, she probably looked as disevelled herself and no one had seen them. So she let it erupt and after a shocked second he joined her. Still chuckling she buttoned his shirt again and he caught her wrists, pulling her close for a kiss, long and sweet. Feeling almost drunk on it she stepped back.

"It…This…may have to happen a bit sooner than I planned."

"That works for me. But make no mistake, when it does, I won't rush through it. I'll have you for a whole night. So we'd better send our kids off for it." Then he stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled down the path as Ginny gaped. _All night_? A shiver of expectation chased down her spine. She wouldn't put it past him.

o.O.o

"How often does Score cook?" Settled back in the living room, listening to the clinking of plates and rattling of the dishwasher trays being pulled out as the two young boys tidied up after what had been a surprisingly (to Ginny) edible dinner.

"Once a week is the deal, but sometimes more, since I think he secretly likes it. Quite often we cook together. And he has to clean up after twice a week, but again, we sometimes do that together, too." Ginny nodded.

"I've been thinking about making James do some chores. I never really had to as a child since my mum insisted on doing it all by herself. It was more of a punishment when we had to do them. Of course, we helped out when she asked but I think it'd be good for him to have some more structure at home."

"I guess routine could make it easier for him. Maybe." He sent a glance in the direction of the kitchen where the mixing voices of their sons trailed out.

"I hope so. And to make our home feel more…permanent. I know he misses our old house as much as I do."

"It's a good idea. I'm not sure how warm a reception you'll get from him, initially, but I think it's a good idea."

"I suppose we can't always be friends to our children. But, Merlin, I wish we could. Just let them do what they think will make them happy." She curled deeper into her corner of the couch. "Sorry, single-parent blues. I think the call from Harry today just brought it home. That I'm doing this alone." He edged closer and turned her head by her chin.

"Hey, no need to apologize to me. I've had single-parent blues more than a few times myself. And every time I've wished someone would just say that I'm doing a good job. So let me tell you, Ginny, you're doing a great job. Your son is in an adjustment period, but it will get easier. He will realize what he has in you." Ginny felt a few knots inside her come undone and she relaxed, leaned against his hand.

"Thank you. That does help."

"Dad, is it okay if James and I go up to my room for a while or is Ms. We…Ginny staying a bit?" Score's voice trailed into the room and he looked to her and after a brief hesitation she nodded.

"Go on up for a bit, Score." She smiled, a tad shaky.

"Well, now that I've had advice from the master I don't see how I could fail."

"While I do like the sound of being the master of anything I think I'll just admit that the role of single parent is just full of worrying if you're doing it all right, if you're enough for him, if being hated is a price you're willing to pay in the pursuit of raising a healthy human being. And so forth."

"Sweet Circe."

"Then again. We don't always have to be alone. While I wouldn't presume to butt into your parenting, Ginny, I'm always here to listen. If you want to talk at the end of a long day, after a bout with James, or even just chat about the weather, I'm up for it." It was possibly the most helpful offer she'd gotten since her divorce.

"Thank you, Draco. I quite possibly will take you up on that."

"Do. Single-parent blues is no game…So, what did Potter say on the phone?"

"Believe it or not, I don't want to talk about Harry right now."

"Okay. How about pretending to watch a movie while we make out on the couch?" Ginny laughed and nodded. It took a special man, she thought, to know when to talk and when to listen. When to be serious and when to lighten the mood. He knew how to comfort you, whether physically with a caress, silently with a glance or with just the right words. With a flick of his wand the TV switched on to a movie, the sound barely audible before he grasped her by the knees and dragged her closer, comfortably settling her on his lap. For just a little while, she thought, she'd just be Ginny, not ex-wife of Harry or single mum of James. Not daughter of Arthur and Molly or sister, niece or aunt. She wanted to be no one and nothing beyond the woman sitting on his lap for just a few minutes. For just a little bit she'd be just herself, enjoying herself with just him. Leaning forward, she covered his lips with hers and sank in.

o.O.o

After James and Ginny had left his dad poked his head into Score's room.

"Hey, was hanging with Potter junior okay?" Score turned from his computer.

"Sure. He's miles better when he's out of school and don't have to impress his little cronies." Draco entered and sat on his son's bed.

"I'm sorry you got sort of pushed together today. He was supposed to meet his dad and it fell through and Ginny felt bad about it so I figured…"

"It's okay, dad. I thought we'd hang by ourselves today but it's fine." He might be all of thirteen years old but even to himself it sounded like – _just remember you're my dad first_. As if his dad could or ever would forget that.

"Okay. I know we missed out on having burgers today. So, how about this: I'm seeing Ginny Friday, you don't have to see James then if you don't want to, I'll tell her to send him to one of the millions of uncles he has. And before, on Thursday, you and me go to the arcade and I beat your ass in Space Shuttle Battle IV?" Score's face lit up.

"Okay. But I'll totally own you."

"Dream on. I'm off to bed, don't forget to sleep tonight."

"I won't. Goodnight, dad." As he was about to close the door Score spoke again.

"I…I'll probably hang with James again on Friday."

"Okay. I'll leave pizza money and the number to the emergency room. Night."

Score felt a smile creep over his features. The arcade was a treat; his dad didn't particularly like it there. It had always been a reward or consolation to go there, for times when he'd gotten really good grades or been sick. But now they were going out of the blue. Except for that his dad was consoling him, providing a well-known sanctuary for him. He must've heard what Score had been thinking and it made him feel warm inside that it was still mostly the two of them, that he was always first in his dad's mind. As long as he was sure of that he could hang with James. He seemed less of a prat every time he saw him. Or maybe he was just developing a higher tolerance for Potter's so called jokes. He snorted to himself and fired up his chat server.

o.O.o

Draco sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair. He'd been telling the truth when he told Ginny a single-parent's work was never done. If either he or Ginny had had at least a partner with whom they'd split from amicably they wouldn't be in the situation of having to squeeze what already felt like too little time out of the week to see each other. Wouldn't have to force their sons together when they might not have much in common. Though he was delighted that it seemed like they were getting along, it had occurred to him that in his hurried impromptu wish to see Ginny, to ease her life in any way he could, he'd forgotten he and his son always went for burgers after grocery shopping. Another reason Score often came along. It worried him that he could lose his head so completely just in his wish to see a woman. Then again she was so much more than some woman. Every time he saw her he got deeper and deeper entrenched in wanting to find out every little thing about her. Find out if he could like her even more than he already did. When he'd met Daphne it had been as he'd told Ginny. A sweet reminder of a past that could never be reborn. That he wouldn't _let_ be reborn. It had been like a whirlwind had wrecked though him and once it let him go all he felt inside was broken to pieces.

Every time he met Ginny he was more and more convinced she was different. She tended what was hers, took care of it. She was so strong, so stubborn in her insisting of making it on her own, of providing everything for her son even when he seemed to regard her as the bane of his existence most of the time. Daphne had always leaned on others, sighing and weeping until things went her way. Ginny just clenched her teeth and did what had to be done. She had told him when there was a leak she'd strapped her own tool belt on and armed with a book on how to fix pipes had managed to sort out the situation. If his ex-wife had found a leaking pipe she'd call – no, cry – for help and if none arrived would probably throw a tantrum and break something else. When her son pushed her away, Ginny kept at him, stayed with him, loved him. Even when her son had reached for her Daphne had edged away.

Ginny was funny and intelligent, and she liked to talk, both discussing serious issues and giggle over ridiculous things. Daphne had always been mostly interested in speaking of money, what she would spend that money on and herself. And her sense of humor had been appalling.

They were both beautiful, he had to admit as much, but while Daphne had fretted over her looks, had always critically examined every feature for any sign of a beginning wrinkle, Ginny just accepted her looks. They were just a part of her as innate as her stubbornness or mischievousness. That made them even more compelling, they were not bought or improved or man-made. She had a few shallow grooves on her face, around her mouth from smiling and around her eyes from laughing. It gave her face the character that made simple regularity and mathematical balance into beauty. Daphne had ruthlessly kept in shape, never eating more than her two low-calorie meals a day and working out religiously. She'd been all edges and angles while Ginny was soft, curvaceous. Not fat in the slightest, the curves called out for a man's hand to trail over them and as his had he could vouch for his preference. He'd never been afraid of getting a paper cut from touching Ginny. With her all he got was smooth skin, silky hair and soft curves over muscle underneath.

And why in the hell was he sitting here in the dark comparing the two? He knew which one he liked better. Probably had liked better since he was sixteen.

Perhaps it was to sooth the guilt he felt over forgetting his, if not promised, at least implied, burgers with Score to be with her. He had to show himself at least there was a good reason for his misstep. He knew, as he hoped Score knew, that his son would always have first place in his mind and heart but he couldn't help that having Ginny in his life would change things. Just as he was probably changing Ginny and James' routine. He lay down on his bed. This second beginning path really was littered with pitfalls.

A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoyed the sixth installment of this and that it leaves you hungry for more :) I'd like to thank my lovely reviewers who truly do make sure any story of mine is ever updated, this time around:

_BlackRose851_ – I'm really glad you're sticking around and still like it!

_Nutmeg44_ – Hope you're not dead from the D/G hotness yet ;) I haven't decided how well Ginny and Luna have stayed in touch over the years yet, but a double date will definitely happen. Don't worry about _too_ terrible things, I'm a fluff-author at heart. Thanks so much for your kind reviews!

_a fan_ – I'm glad you like it still, since I can't sway from my OTP. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

_Virgo girl 14_ – Thank you, I'm so glad you like it :D I'm trying to keep them as much in character as I can, even though it's certainly an AU.

_Hatebelow_ – I'm glad you're fond of Blaise, I am too. I did try to make sure Draco and Blaise stay Slytherins even though they're a lot nicer than in the books…Score will hopefully get some consolation from some alone time with his dad at the arcade :) Thank you for your sweet reviews, they really help in making me update on time!

_Nova.81_ – Thank you, I'm so glad you love it! I like Blaise as Draco's best buddy too and I'm happy my writing made you laugh. Ginny and Score will get to interact soon and hopefully she'll help him with some of his doubts. Thank you for reading and leaving such a flattering review, it made my day!

_TessHardingfan_ – I'm glad you like it, there'll be lots more Score to come!

_SareerMalfoy_ – I don't know if I have a house…I'd say Ravenclaw, or maybe even Slytherin, if they're like I describe my Slytherins. Ten points, awesome, am now solidly in the lead for the house cup! Am very happy to have a loyal fan from Bravery is in the Eye of the Beholder joining us! Teddy will appear eventually even if his role isn't going to be too big, and some others as well. Other than that I like to keep my focus on a few, get inside their heads. Ginny and Score will definitely have time together as the story continues and Blaise will reappear, A LOT, cause I love writing him. I feel like we have a great symbiotic relationship, I made your week with my update and you made my week with you review :) Thanks so much for reading and I hope you keep enjoying!

– I'm so happy you do! I most definitely will keep writing :)


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